The Arcanist: Unspeakable Mysteries
by Mr.Omega573
Summary: The largest threat to the Statute of Secrecy was not the wizards being found, it was the beings that went bump in the night that would drive you mad at a glance, the demons, the things that you can never unknow. So the Ministry made it all Unspeakable. Magic is Might. WBWL, Mentor!Albus, Master of Death, Gods, Demons, & the TWT in a way you have never seen. Alterate Universe.
1. Gorzoth the Frightful (8054)

**Childhood**

From an early age Harry's parents had ignored him in favor of their social duties as Lord and Lady Potter. Then later in favor of his younger twin, John Potter, and his other siblings. The Boy-Who-Lived. It had been the Minister of Magic herself who had declared it so. A load of crock. But sadly for Hadrian, it seemed, everyone believed it to be true. That John Potter had killed the Darklord.

Hadrian was what he would later discover was an Occlumancer. Someone born with stage 3 or higher Occlumancy. As such, if he saw it and he cared to, he could store it in a manner that would allow for perfect recall.

The Potter House-elf Posey, had taught Harry to read, at the age of four. Human-elflings didn't clean like her, she had told him gently, when like any good child, Hadrian had tried copying the only mother he had known in her daily activities. So, rather than go against his _mother's_ guidance, Harry had in an effort to impress her, become a voracious reader. And it was to his delight that Posey was proud of him. If there was one thing that Hadrian had learned, that the two things that were _his_ in the world, were _his_ _Magic_ and _his_ _Mother_. For surely he thought, there were none so fortunate as he, Hadian Potter elfling of Posey the Elf.

Hadrian remembered standing in the nursery terrified, watching as the cloaked man murdered Posey with a flash of grey light. What he would later understand to be a piercing hex slicing into her abdomen as she toppled over, falling into Hadrian's arms. Hadrian remembered every moment of that night perfectly for it had been Posey who had raised him. She had first spoken to him in the language of the Elves, making him laugh with cantrips and other sparkles of magic. She had treated him as her own. As his _Amilessë_, lying on her deathbed as her blood leaked slowly of her, the smell of pine cones, and wild magic filling the air, looked up at him, she raised her hand, dipping it in her blood and marked Hadrian on his brow with a single rune, Sowilo, the rune of power, the rune of magic, the rune of victory pushing her remaining life and magic into the mark, even as the magic that sustained her failed, and she disappeared, a pile of leaves all that he had left of his mother. The blood on his brow burning bright, as it faded into a thin scar. A lightning bolt.

Little Hadrian trembled, his Mother gone, a simple casualty of attempted infantcide of a brother who had everything he did not, he reached for the one thing that he had that was still _his_, and in his anger, he unleashed it, feeling the caress of his Amilessë's magic as he did so. That small spark of herself that was all that he had left of her, and indeed all that she had given him besides memories.

Voldemort had been staring at the younger Potter son, John, when he began to smell ozone, and felt more than heard the crackling of energy. His eyes narrowing, he whirled around in time to see the eldest Potter child, standing there, leaves rustling around his feet, even as his eyes glowed electric blue, lightning coursing through them, leaping across his fingertips, and flickering down his tears. The Dark Lord never had time to do anything, his final moments, grim realization, even as he began swishing his wand to cut down the unnatural boy. But, his time was out, the boy's magic exploded, the room fading away for the Dark Lord, blasting the child back even as it worked at destroying Lord Voldemort's body.

The eldest Potter child flew backwards and crashed into the closet where he lay there blood trickling from his nose and eyes, the rune that his mother had placed on his forehead glowing softly in the shape of a lightning bolt. The rune that Hadrian would one day discover meant _"The guide leads you to the doorway, then waits for your return." _

* * *

The Potters had rushed home, and fussed over little John, The aurors and Minister having arrived for once in their lives faster than civilians to the location of a major magical event. The Potters never thinking to check or even enquire over the fact that their house now had one less house elf, or the condition of their eldest child. To whom the healers had to work extensively to save.

Over the years, Hadrian grew, reading more and more, exercising, feeding, growing the spark of magic that was all that he had left of his Amilessë, till it went from being a drop, to being an lake. He worked _hard._ Knowing somewhere inside himself, that there was no one left to help him do what he was always meant to.

* * *

Hadrian devoured knowledge, not just about magic, but about things that would let him fulfil his goals, seeking and learning like a starving man would food. Magic he realized was passed father to son, but he had no father. His own had most likely never even entered the Potter library.

The library was in reality a small 18 foot by 18 foot room filled on every wall with books. Books that were far beyond the understanding of most wizards, the rooms center-piece, a single desk and a chair. On the desk sat a pensive, with the memories of 20 generations of potters, and the Magics that they witnessed and wielded in it.

He took his ancestors offered memories, it seemed that there were ways to learn all of the magic that someone knew via pensive, though, it was not without_ danger_ to the mind, he had time, and went at what he thought was a slow pace. But Hadrian was prepared, knowledge was not skill, it was only information, and that, Hadrian was plenty prepared for.

By the age of eleven, when he first went to Hogwarts, he was already far beyond the normal curriculum, but more than that, he had realized why purebloods were so elitist. All of the arcane Magic, understanding of the bigger picture that they had attained over generations of Magic users, it made them realize the truth.

Magik had only one true rule, that it had no rules. Wizards however learned a different set altogether. They learned what can be done, what can not be done, what might be done, and what should not be done.

In the shelves of the Potter Library, Hadrian was exposed to things that the Potters of old had discovered, things that were not known to the common wizard, things that the common wizard did not want to know in the first place. Unspeakable things.

It was in this way that Hadrian ended up learning Magic backwards, he did his first ritual in the wine cellar of the Potter house at the age of 8 years, 8 months, 8 days, 8 hours old. The ritual gave him the ability to channel more of his magic than he was supposed to be able to until he was 17.

No matter what magic he practiced, he made sure it was always in keeping to the creed of his ancestors, the difference of what could be done and what should be done.

* * *

Hadrian's journey carried on, he went to Hogwarts, was sorted into Ravenclaw. Scouring the school for any and all the knowledge he could find. He was surprised by the pathetic level that his classmates were at. None of them had even heard of rituals, glyphs, sigils, the like, though he quickly realized why.

They had never even known such magic was possible, to the average witch or wizard, such esoteric and arcane knowledge had no purpose, why seek after things that might one day seek back, Hadrian supposed it made a good deal of sense. But for Hadrian, it was all he knew, and he was determined to keep learning.

* * *

**The Tomb of the Hunter**

Hadrian stood atop a hill, looking through the Irish highlands, the remains of an ancient norse stronghold. It had been simple enough for him to simply slip away during the Hogsmead weekend. He had apparated himself to where a tome had hinted the tomb of the Norse king Gudrød the Hunter lay.  
Gudrød the Hunter was a much unknown figure amongst _muggles_ and wizards alike, because of who his first wife was. Gudrød's first wife was Alfhild, a daughter of Alfarin, the king of Álfheimr. And while, Hadrian's ancestors had discovered much of this history, including the tomb's location, Hadrian was the first to stumble across even a hint of what could lie inside the tomb.

Striding down the hill he had perched himself upon, Hadrian made his way towards an undescript stone. It had a layer of moss that covered its entire surface. But the way it was positioned hinted to Hadrian its true nature.  
Placing his hand on the stone, Hadrian cast a nonverbal cleaning and repairing charm on the stone, watching in satisfaction as the old granite was restored to pristine condition. The runes in High Elvish, and Old Futhark becoming visible to the naked eye.  
Strangely enough there was little to keep people out. Mostly to keep things in. Narrowing his eyes, Hadrian drew his wand, and moved the stone, revealing the passageway that lay beyond.

He strode forward, noting that the stone slid back into place sealing the cavern. His path committed for him, Hadrian strode forward the passage was disturbingly long, atypical to most norse burial grounds. Hadrian's first indication that the was in the right place.

Lining the walls were corpses. Still and unmoving, laying in burial niches along the passageway. The torches lining the walls ignited with an unholy blue fire as he approached them, illuminating the area in front of him and behind him in their pale blue light. Hadrian, was using his mage sight, to see what could not be seen, grimacing as he realized that every single one of the dead bodies was connected by a thin line of neon green gossamer.

Hadrian grimaced perhaps he should have mentioned to someone his plan afterall. Striding forward, he walked into the main chamber, There were guards slumped all along the wall as if a large contingency had been buried in full regalia with the long deceased king. Striding forward, Hadrian noted there were only four chests, lying on each side of the raised dias.  
Hadrian again activated his magesight, nearly one hundred neon green gossamer strands all connected to whatever was inside of the norse style casket. Stepping back, Hadrian cast his sigil of Mage Armor, a rotating circle of sacred geometry blossoming into existence over his left hand. He pulled his wand up his arm and the sigil shrunk into a bracelet like loop of orange runes, glowing with dim eldritch light. Repeating the process, and casting several more spells on himself, feeling suitably prepared, Hadrian looked back towards the four crates.

Walking forward, Hadrian flicked his wand, cast a banisher at the coffin sending it flying, leaped onto the three foot tall raised dias and in the same motion, summoned the four crates too him, with a flick shrinking them and placing them in one of the expanded extra dimensional pockets that he had inside of his cloak. He only had a split second of warning as his precognition warned him of the deadly blades flying through the air at his face. Spinning around, he cast the Sigil of Arnoch, a blue shield made up of interlocking squares of magic, materialized in front of his left hand, the blades sparking against the powerful sigil turning the projectiles into slag.

In an elegant flourish, Hadrian cast a flame based cutter at the draugr that had just attacked him, not pausing to watch it collapse, he began a more powerful counter measure. The small army of draugr lining the room charged.

"Ignis Tempestas." His voice echoed through the silence of the chamber like a thunderclap. The swarms of Draugr burning like kindling in the face of Hadrian's firestorm.

"Isstorm av Jötunn", a fell voice rasped and with a pulse of magic, Hadrian's firestorm was blown away, from the inside out, by an unnatural cold, a cold so mighty that in its presence the flame itself simply ceased to be, plunging the room into darkness. Casting a Lumos Solem at the ceiling, Hadrian took stock of the room. Everything had been swept up in the fire, The Draugr in the room were for the most part destroyed, only three remaining.

One standing tall, with fine cloth that was torn and moth eaten, was one who could only be Gudrød the Hunter. By his side what was clearly a priest of some kind, the staff in his hand showing that much and a Draugr[1] with a sword that sparked blue in the dying light of his fire.

Gritting his teeth, Hadrian cast a fire lance, a bolt of pure fire lancing towards his foes. The beam of destructive force was caught by the shield of the foe blasting him back in the resulting explosion. Hadrian lifted his left hand and the sigil floating in front of his splayed fingers to meet the shower of foot long ice spikes sent his way. The ice spikes slammed into the shield, hissing as they were vaporized.

Leaping through the steam that the ice spikes' collision had created, Hadrian slammed his hand down like a hammer.  
"Ictus Fulumine!" There was a roar, as a visible blast pulsed through the cavern, a massive bolt of lightning arcing through the air as it slammed into the three draugr. The lightnings afterimage stayed a moment, even with his mage armor glowing across his entire body as it protected him from the sonic and light damage he would have faced from being so close to such a powerful spell. There were two kinds of elemental Magic, _summoned _magical elemental spells, which was in nearly every case a pale comparison to the true power of nature, and _true _elemental magic, which was the power of the act itself, not a crude, abit still mighty shadow of it.

When everything dimmed from his use of true lightning, Hadrian saw that the form of Gudrød the Hunter was like his two companions turning to dust.

Striding over to the drowned corpse, Hadrian saw all that remained were the artifacts that he had hoped would be here in the first place. A sword, a tattered book, and a pendant. To be clear, He had no idea what the artifacts could be, but remnants of the olde world were few and far between, any remnant of them was priceless. Three whole artifacts were unprecedented.

Reaching down, He picked up the sword, gritting his teeth as he felt electricity course through his form, analyzing him, before settling. The sword was still a bit uncomfortable to hold. To his shock, the sword began shrinking, settling in the shape of a wand. A metal, 11 inch long wand, made of a blue metal, with glowing blue and gold runes lining it's handles. Collecting whatever he could, Hadrian quickly made his way out of the chamber.

His senses screamed at him, as he leaned back impossibly narrowly avoiding decapitation. The new wand in his hand thrummed with power. Drums beat in his ears. Without awareness of the spell he was casting, he raised his wand.  
_"Kjede av yggdrasil"_ Hadrian found himself intoning. Like the roots of a great tree, arcs of pale magic flitted from his new wand, hitting the Draugr who had tried to decapitate him first, and branching from there. In an instant it was over, only charred husks remained of the undead that had once littered the expanse of the tunnel. Hadrian watched in awe, the old norse spell was one that had never worked for him before, with the amount of magic that he had been throwing around, he was shocked that he was still standing.

Walking carefully, he headed towards the light. 'Yes' he thought, it would be best to leave this place at once.

* * *

**Back to Hogwarts**

With a crack, Hadrian apparated into an alley around Hogsmeade, the whole excursion had only taken four hours, and the students of Hogwarts were just now preparing to go back to school. He saw the platinum blonde hair of Daphne Greengrass, and ran to catch up with her.

"Daphne! Wait up!" He shouted more 'out of breath' due to the insane amount of magic he had just burned through before he apparated back to hogsmeade than due to running a few feet.

"Hadrian!" She exclaimed whirling around. "Where have you been this entire time. I was looking for you everywhere!" She growled out, her frustration evident.

"Here and there" Hadrian responded with a wink. Daphne sighed with exacerbation . She had long since given up trying to weasel his secrets out of him, though they were childhood friends.

"Hadrian." she ground out."With the Dementors here at Hogwarts and the chamber being open, being out by yourself is not safe. You know I worry about you when you disappear without any hint of where you have gone." His blonde friend finished her rant with a huff, her arms crossed across her chest.

Hadrian threw his arm around her shoulders and maneuvered her to his side. Daphne's face twisted in shock at the overly familiar action. Hadrian was not a very touchy person, or a very open person. If Daphne was honest with herself, she would say that she most certainly did not mind the action nor the feeling that came with being so close to the eldest Potter.

They had known each other since childhood. As the Potters were not good parents even in the loosest of terms, they had often left Hadrian alone to his own devices. One such occasion was when the two were eight and the Potters had been invited as a family to the Black manor - where Sirius Black had thrown a party. What was unknown to most of the Wizarding World, was that Daphne Orphelia Greengrass was in fact the niece of one Sirius Orion Black, from his brother Regulus Black.

The story went that after betraying the Dark Lord, Regulus had immediately run to his elder brother. And rather than be a prick like most would have expected, Sirius proceeded to take the issue to Artucus. Well, one thing lead to another, and Regulus "died" in an accident. _No-one _asked a single question because Lord Black willed it so and life moved on until everyone forgot about Regulus in the first place. Daphne's mother was of good pureblood status, and the Greengrass family was well known for being from a predominantly neutral family. This meant that Artucus wholeheartedly approved of the union of His son to the Greengrass daughter.

Thus Regulus Black married Ophelia Greengrass and had Queenie, Daphne, and Astoria Greengrass. Yes they were legitimate, no one who was anyone doubted who they were when they saw Artucus embrace his granddaughters, but no one for a second was under the delusion that poking at that sleeping dragon was a good choice.  
So one day, when Hadrian was stuck at his godfather's place just like her, she had been wandering around her uncle's property and had stumbled across Hadrian, sitting in the Black library devouring a book, and immediately insisted that he explain everything about the book that he was reading to her. They had become fast friends, but she always suspected there was more of a story involving Hadrian's family than he shared with her, but she never asked, and he never told.

Daphne was brought out of her thoughts by Hadrian stepping away from her to stand in front of her. She looked around, shaking off the last of her musings of their childhood and friendship.

They had reached Hogwarts, and they were at the place the two would go their separate ways.  
"A lot on your mind?" Hadrian asked with a grin.  
"More than what's in yours." Daphne sent back with a grin.

"See you in the library after dinner?" Hadrian sent back.  
"Don't be late _Mr. Potter." _She said in a rather eerie impression of their transfiguration professor.

Hadrian shivered.

* * *

The daily grind resumed Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, Runes, and Arithmancy. Homework and practicals far below his skill level. But he was content with being 4th in his year consistently. First second and third in the year got too much attention. He was in school for the experience, to make connections, to use the Hogwarts library, not really to _learn the curriculum._

At the moment, Hadrian found himself meditating in his room. He floated 15 inches off of his bed, his magic flowing through him, and the area surrounding him, the wand he had acquired in Gudrød the Hunter's tomb.

While he was meditating, he could see flickers of the future, flickers of things he missed, could connect with his magic, and strengthen his connection between his magic and his mind. Right now however he was trying to understand the object he had acquired. To say it had power was like saying a lightning bolt was a spark of energy. True in a sense, but in every way that mattered, false on so many levels. The wand hummed with power in his hands, but Hadrian dared not attempt its use while on Hogwarts' property. He

The text he had recovered from the tomb of Gudrød the hunter, was a book on Ancient Norse Magick, more specifically asgardian magic. Hadrian felt a pulse of fear when he realized what the tome he held in his hands was. He knew without a doubt there were fewer wizards alive who would leave him alive with such a treasure than whom would see him dead for having it. It was priceless. It had inside of it, several notes on Álfeimr, Asgard, the other nine realms, in it were the locations of four entrances to Álfheimr, as well as a long passage about the sword he had acquired.

The Elvish sword had been crafted for the Asguardian God of thunder himself; Thor. The text had written that the god Thor had wielded it in his childhood, Mjolnir being gifted to him by the Allfather after he had lost the sword in a skirmish on one of the planets he had done battle on, the powerful weapon's nature not fitting with Thor's own. The Elves recovered it years later, but its powers were greatly diminished by its from the Thunderer, it was given as part of the dowry to Gudrød the Hunter upon his marriage to the Elf King's daughter.

The sword had many powers if the script was indeed true. The book in the pages on Elvish weapons, detailed the ways to bond to Elvish forged weapons, and the ritual that needed to be followed. Hadrian, wou'd see it done as soon as possible. It would prevent any who tried to claim the weapon from doing so, including his own family.

That left only the pendant, for all of the books helpfulness, it was mysteriously absent of any reference to what the pendant might be, or where it might have come from. It would require more research he decided. Settling down on the bed, he stretched, feeling the pulse of his magic, the hum it made as the very air itself was charged by its latent presence.

Standing up, he readied himself for class, and left the dormitory, closing the door to his private room silently.

* * *

Hadrian strode into the great hall, for dinner, his black cloak flowing like water around him, he approached the ravenclaw table, and sat in his normal seat. He glanced over to the Slytherin table, Daphne was missing. It was not unusual for the girl to skip a meal or two, but it was unusual for her to miss class one day, and both meals on the same day.

The mysterious Heir of Slytherin had struck first before winter break, and the ministry had seen fit to send a contingent of dementors to find and destroy the culprit behind the petrifications. They had as daphne had mentioned, soured the normally wonderous atmosphere of Hogwarts with their presence.

He headed to the Charms classroom, for the diminutive professor's office hours. Noting that it was nearly five pm, and as he slipped into the still empty classroom. The Charms Professor was pacing back and forth on his rather large desk. Hadrian eyed the diminutive half-goblin man up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly and the nervousness the ex international duelling champion was showing.

"Good evening professor," Hadran began.  
"Ah, Hadrian, Good evening." The Charms Master greeted startled out of his thoughts.

"Is something troubling you professor?" The professor seemed to be deep in thought.

"Oh no Mister Potter, nothing to be done I suppose." At this Hadrian's eyes widened, the only indication of Hadrian's true feelings on the diminutive professors statement. His magic screaming at him to take action as the latent mage shield he had tied to a pendant he had gifted Daphne activated.

"Professor, suddenly Im feeling quite ill. Have not slept much recently, I know that today we were going to work on perfecting the vanishing charm" Hadrian drew his wand, and vanished the contents of the dustbin that was leaning on the side of Flitwick's desk.

"Excellent Hadrian! Simply excellent! Marvellously done, yes now I think you are looking a bit pale, best you go off and rest. The spell was performed perfectly" Flitwick positively glowed with pride. Taking the opportunity, Hadrian made his way out of the door, and immediately drew his Holly wand, poorly matched though it might feel compared to the artifact he recently acquired.

Hadrian had learned about the weapon that had saved his life; it was called Eldingergaffli, meaning sky splitter, an abbreviated name Eldingr written on the blade.

_"Appare vestigium"_ Hadrian enchanted simultaneously activating his mage sight. The world swirling as he saw a nearly blinding amount of magic, a variety of colors, tracing back the gossamer thread of magic that lead him to where his magic was flowing to keep the mage armor activated. Footsteps crisscrossing across the hall nearly blinding. The gossamer thread shining brighter as he focused on the trace of his power that he had left in her charmed necklace. The second he found it, he ignored all of the other lights, and took off after the clear magical trace he could see

Hadrian ran and ran, blowing by several teachers, ignoring their indignant shrieks, and the shouts of "Detention Potter!" that echoed through the halls. He found himself outside, his sole objective of tracing the thread before it, and Daphne, went dead filling him with power.  
He ran through the snow covered forest no trail to guide him, trees blurring by him, leaping through ice covered bushes, with little regard to his own condition, he would be fine. Hadrian did not worry about where he was going, magic was his guide, and it led him right to a clearing, then it pulsed. Hadrian knew that Daphne was ahead.

Breathing in, he clicked his wrists together, activating his sigils, he had not used them since the tomb of Gudrød the Hunter, but he had used his time since then wisely, performing several other rituals, ones that would give him an edge in a fight, an edge he had lacked against the draugr.

Durability, physical strength, stamina, speed, all essentials, things he had to have, if he was to survive what his magic hinted might be in his future. The truth was that no matter how well the tomb had gone for him, he should have lost, and he would have, if it had not been for Eldingr.

By now darkness was setting in, and with a flick of his holly wand, transfiguring his school robes into battle robes, Hadrian stepped through the brush surrounding the clearing his magic had lead him to. Hadrian's eyes glowed eldritch green with his magic, a green that was reminiscent to the old power of his Amilessë.

The clearing was large, several hundred feet wide, with perfectly circular frozen lake, the trees loomed impossibly high, far older than most of the trees in the forest. Lying in the center of the clearing, suspended by blue ropes was Daphne. The mage armor, he had enchanted her pendant with covering her a glittering web of runes. Her eyes widened comically as she saw him enter the clearing.

"Daphne, please don't be dead." Hadrian murmured to himself.

"Ah welcome Hadrian." The cloaked figure said with a sinister voice.  
" It seems you have me at a disadvantage, you know my name, but I do not know yours."

" Perhaps you know me by my moniker, _Heir of Slytherin"_ the cloaked man's smirk could be heard in his voice, as Hadrian's eyes widened with realization.

"So you are real then." Hadrian said, his eyes becoming hard.

"In the flesh" the man bowed.

"So Heir of Slytherin, do you have a name?" Harry asked.  
"You may call me Tom." The man turned around revealing the face of Tobias Flint. Elder brother of Marcus Flint. Heir of the House of Flint. Huh, not who Hadrian had expected.

"I don't suppose you are going to let me take Daphne?" Tob as Hadrian decided he would call the possessed Tobias, grinned as he pulled out his wand.

"Take her! No no no, you Hadrian are going to join her." He grinned madly, showing far too many teeth to be considered sane. Hadrian's foresight screamed at him even as he swished his wand in a circle over his head, the ropes that were flying through the deepening shadows lighting on fire and turning to ashes, as they came in contact with the shimmering red shield that Hadrian had erected.

"Conc Flammae" Hadrain murmured as he made small circles with his wand as he thrust it towards the kidnapper of his friend. Crimson ribbons blossomed from his wand spiraling in a cone. Even as Tom froze the flames with a flick, Hadrian was already casting again. Ice spike after ice spike slammed into the possessed Tobias's shield the first two cracking it and the third slipping through the hole the last two had created, slamming into Tom's shoulder, eliciting a shriek from the heir.

Leaping forward, Hadrian ran towards Tom, closing the thirty feet between them in just a handful of breaths thanks to his ritually improved speed. Grimacing through the pain from the dagger size ice that had been imbedded in his shoulder, Tom seeing Hadrian charge him, fired a series of wide angle bombarding hexes.

Hadrian leaped over two, rolled under the other, and got hit right in the chest with the fourth. He grunted, as his Mage armor flared up, lighting his form up with a lattice of runes as he went flying backwards rolling several times before coming to a stop at the foot of a tree. Springing to his feet, he noticed to his dismay his wand lying between Tom and where he had been blasted back to as he was forced to dodge several piercing curses directed at him.

Suddenly his heightened awareness noticed the smell of ozone, realizing what Tom was about to do, Hadrian knew he was not fast enough to stop it.

"Fulminis Maxima" Tom shouted.

Time seemed to slow as a bolt of lightning erupted from Tom's wand, Hadrian's hand clasped the artifact necklace that he had gotten from the tomb of Gudrød. The lightning had already cleared the distance between them, when suddenly as his fingers closed around the pendant, everything stopped the only difference in the world a noticeable chill, and the way everything looked like it was covered in ice.

It took Hadrian a minute to realize that time had stopped, the whole world fell away into glacial tones, only the pendant and himself remained in their normal and comparatively vibrant colors. Reaching down into his robes, he pulled out Eldingr, releasing the pendant as he thrust the wand out towards where the lightning was coming from, the ice disappearing the moment he released the powerful pendant.  
What followed was a roar, though Hadrian had little idea who or what from, as the lightning was deflected to the sides by the artifact. Then the sonic boom hit. His and Daphne's Mage Armor spells protecting them from damage that would have done, Tom on the other hand was flung backwards as the displaced air rushed outwards with a crack that must have burst his eardrums, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. There was a reason why all but the most powerful magi never attempted true elemental attacks.

The clearing was a wreck, the ground scorched, trees literally split in the sonic aftermath of the spell. Hadrian was sure that it had been heard for hundreds of miles. Capitalizing his enemies moment of confusion, Hadrian cast his own series of blasting, and binding curses on the man, intending to hold the man while he freed Daphne. While he ran over to the altar where Daphne was suspended. Flicking his wrist, he cut her down and pulled her into a hug. Flicking his wand again, Hadrian removed the silencing curse from his friend. And snapped off a calming charm to try and keep her calm.

"Ha-ha-hadrian" she sobbed into his chest. "Do you hear that?"  
"No- wait. Oh gods. Daph, let's finish this and get you out of here." Hadrian responded, his eyes scanning the area until he found tom, sitting his wrist slit, a circle of blood around him, runes drawn hastily into the snow covered ground around him.

"He-he took my blood!" She gasped out between sobs. Hadrian's expression became thunderous.

"Tobias what are you doing, stop this!" Hadrian thundered. Summoning his Holly wand to his hand, and handing it to Daphne. He had Eldingr, best if she was armed too.

"You, how dare you. You have ruined everything, a third year brat! There are mysteries that my teacher Herpo taught me that will reveal why _I _am the _greatest_ Wizard on the Earth" Cackling madly at his apparent genius, he moved, stepping backwards, he began chanting, flicking his wand a bound girl flew through the forest. He could tell by the way the magic moved, she was a Muggle.

There was a molment of silence then a -slllliiiiiiiiccccccccccckkcchhh has Tom sliced her throat before Hadrian could do anything. The very air pulsed with darkness, the shadows grew longer, and to Hadrian's horror, the teen's voice was soon joined in his chanting by others. He had seen something like this, one of the Potter memories. This was Anathema, this was _Unspeakable, _whatever Tom was about to summon, it was going to be_ bad. _

Thinking fast, Hadrian swished his wand and sent spell after spell at the teen, trying to end this fast. Every one of the spells Hadrian sent at the teen went veering off to the sides, as if Tom wasn't even in the same dimension as Hadrian's spells anymore. Hadrian had read about the language of the lower planes, but he had never heard of any who had dared utter even a single word of the fel language.

/Öö tamyn guravdagch ongotsny ezen, _Oh lord of the third plane of hell_,/ The blood Tom had smeared into a circle from that poor muggle girl sharpened and moved, forming clear glyphs suspended in the air. The meaning of the demonic flowing into Hadrians consciousness like honey, insidious, and evil honey, but sticky and sweet all the same.

Hadrian tried recalling spells to fight any of the planar creatures with, or even disrupt the summoning of one. There had been only one warning, to disrupt the ritual would be to disrupt the veil between the planes, and a tear, especially unstable is why this kind of magic was deemed Unspeakable, the mention of it to one who doesn't know a death sentence.

/ bi chamaig ene ongotsond tavtai morilno uu, _I welcome you to this plane,_/ The glyphs began to glow.

/ tand taalagdakh khümüüstei uulzakh gej baina,_ to feast upon my enemies._/ He could feel Daphane shiver next to him as she realized that this most certainly meant them.

/bi chamd gashuudlyn ezen, I summon thee oh lord of sorrow,/ Suddenly Hadrian had an even worse feeling about what this Tom, so called Heir of Slytherin was summoning.

He and Daphne slowly raised their eyes upwards and looked at the night sky in horror as even the moon went blood red in an instant, and an unnatural chill gripped the air. Dementors.

Grabbing Daphne's hand he tucked Eldingr between their clasped hands and grasped his pendant, slowing time down around them the air gaining a hint of chill as he began quickly murmuring under his breath.

"I aigída tou myaloú tis athinás" A grey band of greek runes wound its way around their foreheads. "O yperaspistís tou orthologismoú" Daphne looked at him again in surprise, as a gold sigil appeared on the silver band of runes. She felt a wave of calm. Hadrian was straining, Casting an unprepared Sigil was _far_ more exhausting than nearly any other kind of magic on the_ mind. He _had just cast_ three. _  
Hadrian could see time starting to return to normal as the world began slowly defrosting, and forced out one final spell "_anima clypeus_". As his vision swam and blood filled his mouth and dripped from his nose as time returned to normal.

If nothing else, Hadrian knew his limits, the strain that the artifact put on his mind, doubled with every spell he used pushed him closer to them than any thing he had done in a long time, he would be alright in a few minutes. Performing the Sigils on another person was nearly too much for him. He only had time to place the three that Every Potter had placed in the pensive. It was considered the first of the ancient Magik spells to learn for a good reason.

Three spells that were required before you could even see Unspeakable texts, or the Scrolls of Maledictus. They were apparently different spells in different languages, but as Hadrian's family stemmed from Rome, and the Romans often had Greek spells, the three he had cast were The Aegis of Athena, a sigil that would prevent your mind from cracking, the second part of the sigil, was the Seal of Rationality, a Seal that would stop you from going instantly insane at what you were witnessing, and finally the Soul shield, which prevents any foreign entity from instantly stealing your soul from your body.

The measures were far from perfect, you could still be stabbed through the chest, or have your heart or brain summoned out of you if something was sufficiently powerful and determined. But it would at least give Daphne a chance to see what killed her. Shaking his mind clear Hadrian looked up, spitting the blood out in time to see Tom finish the incantation.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai. _Gorzoth the Frightful._/ Tom shouted.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai._ Gorzoth the Frightful._/ The Dementors rejoiced.

Suddenly with the sound of breaking glass, the mirror like lake cracked, and then exploded upwards. Out bursting a monstrosity that even with the protections in place would haunt Hadrian and Daphne for years to come.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai. _Gorzoth the Frightful_/ The Demon cried.

Standing nine feet tall. The demon's skeletal body was covered in thin white shimmering skin. Each one of its ribs was visible, far too many for it to be mistaken for a human, it was cloaked in simple black shadows, in this way it was very similar to a dementor, but what made Gorzoth so frightful was its face. Nearly double the size of a human skull, Gorzoth's mouth of razor teeth grinned perpetually, stretching from one ear to the other, his eyes glowing red, and his nose pinched and small. The hair on his head was matted.

"Welcome great Gorzoth for the first time in several thousand years back to earth." Tom never finished his sentence, as the dementors behind him swooped in and forced Tom to his knees.  
"N-No. Y-You can't I am yo-yoouuurr summoner! Stop! Noooo! AaaAggh" The demon's attention seemed focused on Tom, so Hadrian made his move, grabbing Daphne by the waist, he spun as he tried to apparate out of the forest. There was a deafening crack and Hadrian suddenly found himself and Daphne collapsing several hundred yards away, on top of a hill at the far edge of the clearing.

I will be with you in just a moment younglings. The demon's voice echoed seemingly right behind their ears at all time. It had still not turned to face them. Daphne nearly screamed in terror. Sometimes not going insane, was its own punishment.

Standing up, Hadrian looked around, realizing how close they were to the dementors, he held firmly onto Daphne and began a chant of his own. His words a whisper lost in the screams that Tom was making loud even from this distance, as the demon he foolishly summoned tortured him. Daphne looked at him in wonder as she felt the power of Eldingr flare.  
"Ég bið þig þrumur og eldingar Því að ég er herra eldingarinnar. Mig verja." Clouds began to gather in the sky. The dementors flying through them rushing down towards the clearing.

"Ég bið þig þrumur og eldingar Því að ég er herra eldingarinnar. Mig verja." The first rumble of thunder, a deep angry sound. One that was felt in the heart rather than heard in the ears.

"Ég bið þig þrumur og eldingar Því að ég er herra eldingarinnar. Mig verja." Silence. Even Tom's screaming stopped. Everything, all of nature waited for the archaic magik that Hadrian had just enacted. A pact with an element. The demon's head snapped up to the sky, and it seemed to glare at the sky in what could only be described as wariness.

Suddenly Gorzoth's head snapped towards Hadrian along with the three hundred dementors in the clearing and sky, all suddenly focused on the two small children. The chill was heartstopping. He heard Daphne whimper the closer they got, and felt the feeling of loneliness well up inside of him.

"Mig verja" Hadrian incanted one final time, concurrent to every one of the dementors began dive bombing at him.

The sky obeyed, opening up, the thrum of power itself so great that any with magic and on the isles could understand that something momentous had just been achieved.

As if the holy host itself was descending, bolt after bolt of lightning began to rain down on the host of dementors. Every strike turning the demons to ash. Every bolt arcing through the air with unerring accuracy as it immolated entire groups of dementors in its power. Hadrian stood on the ground, his wand swirling like a conductor as the sky itself bent to his will.

The demon screeched seeming to realize that it personally seeing to Tom's suffering was costing it its followers. Abandoning that task, it spun, turning towards Hadrian. Gorzoth fired a bolt of magic at the duo. Daphne recognized the thread and acted as fast as she could, summoning a log from one of the fallen trees in the bath of the spell. Which burned a whole through the tree but lacked the energy to move on past it.

By this point, Hadrian looked more like a God of Antiquity, then a third year student, a halo of lightning surrounding his head, his wand flickering this way and that, spelling doom for any who entered his sight.

Focused as he was on the threat of the dementors, Hadrian failed to realize the struggle Daphne was having with the Demon of the Third Circle, as she banished log after log at the Demon, watching as it irreverently batted aside her attacks.

Daphne stared helplessly at the demon which seemingly done with the game, stepped into the air as sure as solid ground, and flew towards her its 7 inch long fingers, reaching out menacingly.

Suddenly, a ball of fire exploded in front of her, revealing a six foot tall, silver haired, and silver bearded old man. His gnarled fingers wrapped around his even more gnarled wand. Standing in front of her stood Albus Dumbledore. The venerable Headmaster's eyes crackled like Hadrian's lightning, as he raised his wand above his head.  
"_Malleo sanctus_" He bellowed bringing his hand down in a fierce movement. His wand and hand movements echoing that of a hammer as the demon was slammed back to the ground so hard that its body cracked the earth.

"Two Third Year students now witness to the Unspeakable. What a mess." The headmaster lacked any and all of his normal cheer. His eyes were chips of diamond, glowing with an inner power that held you transfixed at their sight.

"You have done excellent my dear, but if you would allow me." Dumbledore addressed Daphne quietly. Firmly placing her between Hadrian and himself with his left hand. Dumbledore leveled his wand at the demon.

_"Igne Solis." _Dumbledore's spell seemed to, like the demons voice, be just out of reach of your auditory abilities, yet still perfectly audible through the din of the fighting. Dumbledores spell opened a small pinprick sized hole in space at the tip of his wand, blasting a beam of _sun fire_ at the Demon. Though the spell started with the thickness of a needle, it destroyed nearly the entire clearing melting rock, incinerating trees, and evaporating water alike. The demon, clearly seemed to be hurt by the devastating attack, and as it began to exude a dementor like aura, rapidly cooling the molten rock, Dumbledore proved why he was known as _the _Transfiguration Master_. _

Pebbles became iron chains, the chains grew barbs winding around the demon's legs, causing it to shriek in pain as the chains shredded it's legs. The kind Headmaster turned the ash that was floating in the air into razor sharp shimmering particles of glass. Every single spell he cast chained into the next. He was unstoppable. His chains had almost wound around the demons midsection when Gorzoth locked his fingers, and twisted, the slick sound of the demon's fingers snapping audibly even to Daphne's ears over the lightning's rumbles, over the dementor's screeches.

"Professor, stop it!" She screamed, even as she realized it was too late. Gorzoth completed his spell, his fingers forming the glyph that he had been forming.

/_Khar darsan züüd._/ The demon slammed its hands together and a ripple of fuchsia magic rippled from his hands. Spreading rapidly outward from Gorzoth's location. Its words making it into Hadrian, Dumbledore and Daphne's minds. _The nightmare dimension. _

Acting fast, Dumbledore grabbed Daphne's shirt and threw her off the side of the small plateau that they had found themselves on. Noting with satisfaction as she disappeared in a flash of brilliant Phoenix Fire. His phoenix would have been unable to save Himself, Mr. Potter, _and_ Ms. Greengrass. It was best that she got away. He would have to do his best to manage to keep young Hadrian safe.

Hadrian felt the disturbance in his foresight, and abandoning his assault of the dementors, who were now far fewer in numbers than at the start of the battle. Directed all of the lightning he could at Gorzoth, released his control of the bolts, and reached out, grabbing hold of Dumbledore's shoulders. Braced himself as the wave of Fuchsia hit them at the same time as the eleven or so streams of skyfire slammed into Gorzoth.

With a twist the entire clearing collapsed in on itself as reality was broken by the demonic magic, and the clearing itself got sucked into the nightmare realm. Hadrian watched with satisfaction as the demon Gorzoth was struck by his attack before it too got sucked into the vortex as the whole clearing collapsed pulling itself into the Nightmare dimension. The few remaining Dementors left in utter disarray. As their Lord once again was taken from them.

* * *

A/N: Hello Welcome To the Arcanist. It is a totally AU Harry Potter Fanfiction that has been writing itself for the last few years in my head, and I have recently put some time into writing it on paper. I have already written over 50k words and will be posting it here as I feel like doing so. A beta would be nice. Flamers will be ignored, this project is mostly because I feel like after reading a billion Harry Potter Fanfictions, I should contribute something of my own. Hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.


	2. The Nightmare Dimension (5175)

When Hadrian opened his eyes, he stood on a cliff face, his hand holding firmly onto Dumbledore's shoulder.

"The Nightmare Dimension," Hadrian said grimacing. Nearly the last place I ever hoped to visit.

"We will get through this Hadrian," Dumbledore said firmly. "Though you and I are due for a much much longer conversation at the end of this journey we find ourselves on." He said. Glancing at his wand. Dumbledore reached into his cloak. Realizing to his dismay, that while it appeared substantial, it was in fact 'out of phase' with the rest of him. Meaning while it protected his vanity, and while all of his possessions remained with him. He could not access them at all.

"It appears that we are at a disadvantage, one wand between the two of us, and it seems as though none of our possessions will be serving us much in this place." The wizened headmaster said only a hint of disappointment lacing his voice.

"One wand?" Hadrian said curiously.

"Quite. See though I myself have never been to this dimension, I have known several who have, and all of them say the same thing, that only Artifacts of Power, very very rare remnants of Magick, gods, and the like are able to maintain their identity when they leave the dimension of their creation and enter a dimension like the nightmare dimension or the one like the astral realm." Dumbledore explained. Hadrian nodded his head, what Dumbeldore said made sense. But now Hadrian was left with a conundrum. Should he tell Dumbledore about Eldingr, and his Pendent? Both of which seemed solid when he reached out and grasped the pendant that was resting against his tunic hidden on the inside of his robes. Dumbledore seemed to be muttering a chant as his eyes glowed in a telltale kaleidoscope manner - mage sight.

Flicking his wand from its holster. Hadrian began erecting strong privacy wards. Casting sigil after sigil spanning ten feet in every direction. First a Sigil of Intent, then the Sigil for a ward of protection, the sigil to prevent scrying and other manners of long-distance detection. The cyclic script of a nightmare ward, its interlocking circles creating a dome around them even as he wove more and more protections to their location. When he was finished. He looked up, noticing the baffled and inquisitive look the headmaster was giving him. They wouldn't last long, but at least a few hours.

"It seems Hadrian, that your most impressive display with the guardians of Azkaban was far from the only thing that has gone unnoticed. So many sigils, at your age, incredible." Swishing his gnarled white wand in a circle overhead, Hadrian felt as Dumbledore added another ward.

"Professor what was that you just did" Hadrian asked curiously. He had layed far stronger protections than he would have normally had to on the basis of where they currently were.

"Ah that Hadrian is a dimensional shield. Like an anti-apparition jinx but for any less than savory denizens of planes other than ours, who might attempt to strike us here away from the veil protecting earth." Dumbledore Peered over his slightly transparent glasses at him, his eyes betraying nothing of his true feelings.

"Would you care to explain exactly how we find ourselves in this situation. Who that demon, was, who summoned him, and how you are able to do magic with what appears to be an artifact." Hadrian noted, that Dumbledore had not pocketed his wand. Hadrian realized it was confession time.

"This mess started when I felt the enchantment of Mage Armor that I had inscribed on a necklace that I had given to Daphne, activate. I had attached the spell to my own core, knowing that in the instance where she was endangered, I would be able to track my magic and thus her. I ran and ran and eventually found her in that clearing. Standing in front of her, trying to overpower the enchantment was Tobias Flint." Here Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows rose just a fraction of an inch, betraying his surprise.

"He told me to call him Tom, and claimed to be the Heir of Slytherin, the one responsible for the attacks, the one who the dementors were sent to find. We fought. I won. And then he summoned a Demon from the Fifth Circle. Unluckily for us, it happened to be one of the ones who presided over Nightmares, and Fear, meaning that it commanded the Dementors. Realizing what he was summoning when he started chanting in the fel tongue, and remembered what my ancestors had demanded before allowing any heir to even learn of the Anathemaic Tomes or the Scrolls of Maledictus. I used an artifact in my posession, and bought us some time, and cast the Aegis of Athena, the Seal of Rationality, and the Soul Sheild, knowing that while my own defenses would protect me, Daphne would have been driven mad by the presence of that demon." Dumbledore's eyes widened in recognition.

"You continue to surprise me Hadrian. The Aegis of Athena, the Seal of Rationality and the Soul Shield are all Master level sigils. If you were not standing in front of me, and I had not witnessed your prowess myself, I would struggle to believe it was true." Dumbledore, paused, conjuring a bench for the two of them to sit on, they were as safe as could be in the protections that Hadrian had erected. Might as well relax, recharge, there was no guarantee when they would next have such a luxury.

"Tell me something my boy, where did you get the two Artifacts, forgive my inquisitiveness, but Artifacts are far from toys." Dumbledore said evenly.

"I found them." Hadrian replied, his eyes narrowing at the implied slight of his age.

"You found them?" Dumbledore repeated incredulously. "And pray tell which tomb did you raid?" The Headmaster said with a bit of mirth.

"The tomb of Gudrød the Hunter, son-in-law to the King Alfarin of Álfinheimr." Hadrian would never admit it, but he found the unflappable Dumbledore's mirth draining from his face far more comical than it rightfully should have been.

"You can't mean to tell me that a third year student raided the tomb of a lost Norse king, Father of _Halfdan the Black_. What happened? What of the protections? What were the artifacts that the tomb had inside of it? Where there books." Dumbledore looked less of an ancient mage of unspeakable power, and more of an excited scholar.

"In order than. Yes I did it, just a bit ago actually. It was hidden by many runes, and an elvish puzzle if I am not mistaken. The protections were fairly standard, the various assortments of traps, spikes, Draugr -" Again Dumbledore reeled back. "And undead. As for the Artifacts, I retrieved three in number. But before I tell you mine, since we are all in a sharing mood, why don't you tell me about yours first. Headmaster of mine you may be. But trust is built not demanded." Hadrian grinned.

"Yes I suppose you are right. Fine then, _on my person,_ I have only the Elder Wand and my pouch of plenty. I did not expect something of this nature to occur, or I would have surely brought more... unique assistance." Dumbledore remarked as he studied Hadrian's face.

To Hadrian's Credit, Hadrian simply looked at the wand interested, but his gaze lacked any hint of lust or greed. After all he himself had a divine artifact, why should Headmaster Dumbledore having one be that much of a surprise.

"The other Artifact I have on my person is the Cornucopia, which I carry simply because one never knows when one will need a snack." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, and just a hint of embarrassment. Reaching into the small pouch, he pulled out, a sandwich, and a bread bowl filled with delicious smelling soup. Passing both to Hadrian, the headmaster began to eat, no sense in wasting time.

After some time, both of them had finished their impromptu meal in silence, Hadrian stood, flourishing his wand. He presented the Mithril wand glowing faintly with blue runes, to the Professor. The large blue diamond at the back crackling with a kind of inner charge that was mesmerizing.  
"Mine is admittedly far less famous than the infamous Death Stick, but it is none-the-less wondrous. It is called Eldingr. It was a gift to Thor, Odinson, by the light Elves in his childhood, before he was gifted Mjolnir." Concentrating, The wand morphed in his hand into an impressive double-edged Elvish hand-and-a-half sword, with a leaf shape blade, the bluish color of the blade revealed what looked to be arcs of lightning. Dumbeldore looked impressed in spite of himself.

"It was most peculiar. In the cave, when the Draugr outnumbered me, I took a risk and cast a true Lightning spell. One that seemingly convinced the sword I was it's true master. I doubt that it would have accepted me otherwise. Since then, It has at time whispered to me the spell to use, such as what happened with the Dementors without it's assistance we would have surely perished. It is not chatty, but if I understand it correctly, it remembers the magic of Thor, and _wants_ to be used again, it is most certainly not against offering a spell or two in that pursuit. It ended up as dowry to Gudrød the Hunter, and remained with his Draugr even after his death."

"What is your old wand's response to Eldingr?" the Headmaster enquired.  
"It works just the same, it doesn't seem to mind. Eldingr is more like a true partner, my old Holly wand more of a first love. Special in its own unique way." Hadrian answered wistfully.

"Eldingr can change shape at will. It returns to me, something that I wonder if the Allfather incorporated into Mjolnir because of Eldingr. Lightning spells come so easily to it. It is almost like they are effortless to cast. That storm should have been beyond my abilities," Hadrian admitted quietly, "But Eldingr sensed my need and provided an alternative, one that was more of an invocation of the element itself than an attempt to control or direct it at the start" Dumbledore nodded sagely at this, clearly deep in thought. Several times the Elderwand had also provided a solution when he was stuck, and while some of the other Artifacts he had encountered during his life were more chatty, the Wand of Destiny certainly wasn't above contributing itself every once and a while.  
"A truly wondrous Artifact, you are most lucky that it has chosen you. And the other artifact?" the Headmaster asked curiously.

"I could find no note of it in any of the Potter Arcana. Even Eldingr was a footnote." Reaching into his cloak he pulled the snowflake shaped pendant free, allowing Dumbeldore a look at it. He appreciated that the Headmaster did not attempt to touch it.

"If I grasp it, it freezes time for a moment." The pendant was an oval shape several inches across, nothing too large or noticeable, it was nearly an inch thick. In the center shone a shard of something that seemed to radiate a subtle chill.

Dumbledore gazed at it intently. His eyes lighting up with kaleidoscopic shifts as he studied the pendant, just as he had the wand. To check their safety as he himself had after receiving them.

"Hm, most interesting, I think this is Jotuun in nature, or at least a fragment of something from Jotunheimr. When we return, I should very much like to take a look at them. But I am certain, beyond the risks of such incredible power there is nothing dangerous about either of them." The Headmaster stood. Having had their fill it was time for them to depart.

"I will say this only once, whatever happens out of this marvelous safe haven, it is imperative you do exactly as I say, and stay alert. This realm has claimed more lives and minds than most, and while in here we have enjoyed a nice chat and a snack, out there we will get no second chances, your death will likely mean mine, and mine yours. If this is to work, you must trust me, and I you." There was no hint of a twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes, nor a softness to his expression. Here was the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. Here was the defeater of Grindelwald.

"I quite agree, that we should take measures to prevent being fooled." Dumbledore nodded. Hadrian lifted his wand and with a practiced movement, slit his palm, much to Dumbledore's alarm. With a look, he silenced any protest the Headmaster had towards his actions, and began his spell.

"_Jaḍāna buddhimatta"_ the blood formed Sanskrit characters, that tattooed Hadrian's name in Sanskrit on Dumbledore's arm.

Dumbledore took his cue, slicing his hand, and waiting for Hadrian to complete the spell.

"_Jaḍāna buddhimatta" _Hadrian lifted his sleeve, revealing a bracelet that read _Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore _in the primordial language.

"Now care to explain why you just performed highly illegal blood magic Hadrian?" Hadrian scoffed.

"I am quite certain that the Nightmare Dimension has no laws about such things. This spell, links our consciousness. You can sense my wellbeing, and I can sense yours. If you concentrate, you can telepathically send me information such as visuals and the like, and we can communicate without removing or damaging our Occlumancy or sigils." Hadrian explained looking smug.

"How useful." Dumbldore remarked. 'But why use this particular spell?' Dumbledore had an indescribable look on his face as he telepathically sent his message to Hadrian. .

'I assume if you have opened any of the Arcane Codices, you have already performed the _Juis Sanguis_ ritual. Meaning when we leave, you simply have to remove the right for me to have the blood you have given me, and I you, and this spell will dissolve.' Hadrian sent back with equal ease. To his surprise, the sensation he got was pride. The Headmaster was proud of him.

'How ingenious. Truly the only positive to this series of events is that we have gotten to know each other a bit.' Dumbledore was practically beaming. Er telepathically as it were.  
'From here on out, I think it best that we speak as little as possible. Let us limit our communication to telepathy alone.'

'Agreed.'

With that, Hadrian de-constructed the dome that they were sheltered in and the two set out. To find a way out of this forsaken dimension.

* * *

The Nightmare Dimension quite lived up to its name, as the two traveled, they passed through every kind of nightmare, abandoned town, with Slasher's and monsters terrorizing and murdering all in sight. What truly made the experience unpleasant was that the Dimension worked off of fractals. As you left one scenario, you found yourself in seemingly the exact same one again, what apparently was a loop. A seemingly inescapable one.

`Oh look, its starting again,' Hadrian commented dryly. The two were linked together ethereally, by a mystic chain that Dumbledore had summoned. It was intangible, and ethereal, out of phase, but he appreciated it at once, when suddenly, they had entered a place filled with Dumbledores, all telling him that the others were imposters. Surely maddening if it were not for his Magesight, which revealed the craven maws of the undead and other horrors that were attempting to sway Hadrian. The mind link and the ethereal chain alone, making him comfortable with blasting the demons from his sight with several well placed chain lightning spells.

See, Hadrian was the first to realize it, that the Monsters and the other denizens of this horrible place, must have a way to travel that did not lead back to the start of the place that they had just left, and the way became visible as they used their Magesight to go the way that did not represent the fractal pattern. The exceptions to the Fractal nature of the dimension were the way through.

The first real obstacle that they encountered was a bridge that they were attempting to cross. Sitting on the bridge however was a _Nightmare_. A true nightmare, it was no petty demon, it was something far more dangerous.

'Come Hadrian, I will deal with it.'

'How? That is a Nightmare, they are known to take an entire team of Dream seers to fight off '

'While there is much that you know Hadrian, I would hope that in my century of life, I have learned a few things you, for all of your prestigious talent, have yet to.' There was a hint of mirth but also chiding present in the old Headmaster's Voice. The two continued forward, approaching the demon, its baleful red eyes glaring into them.

The area around the demon seemed to be tainted, even more so than had been present in the rest of the Nightmare Dimension. Then Dumbledore's voice cracked through the air like a whip.

"Hier leg' ich mich schlafen,

Keine Nachtmahr soll mich plagen,

Bis sie schwemmen alle Wasser,

Die auf Erden fließen,

Und tellet alle Sterne,

Die am Firmament erscheinen!" **

Hadrian watched in awe as the headmaster continued chanting the invocation, and the Nightmare, reeled back, as if struck.

Again he began, this time in English.

**I lay me here to sleep;

No night-mare shall plague me,

Until they swim all the waters

That flow upon the earth,

And count all the stars

That appear in the firmament!

Shrieking, the Nightmare found itself banished. The German chant having done its job, banishing the creature to an infinity of searching, or counting. They approached the bridge, only for it to crumble to ash in front of them. On the other side, a mirror.

'I greatly suspect that that is the doorway we have been searching for.' Dumbledore's voice rumbled in his mind. Cautious, analytical.

'It is too easy. Something is wrong.'

Youngling, I see you. The Voice of Gorzoth echoed from all sides. Dumbledore and Hadrian stood back to back, wands at the ready.  
You, have caused me trouble, and I will so enjoy troubling you Suddenly there was a screeching from all sides as dementors, floated _through_ the shadows surrounding the two.

"_Expecto Patronum"_ "Dumbledore spoke calmly even as the chill made the bones in his fingers ache, and his head spin. Hadrian felt the presence of the Dementors. Their unique magic wasn't stopped by the Aegis of Athena or the other spells, those spells could stop the damage, but as he and Daphne had experienced in the clearing, they would not prevent the experience.

I will take from you everything you have left, starting with your magic, and the one you care for, so I Gorzoth do swear. The cruelty and hate was audible in the demon's voice, even as it echoed throughout the space. Coming from one moment in front of him, and in the next, from behind him. Then perhaps most horrifyingly from so close to his ear, he could swear he felt it's foul breath on his face.

'Be calm Hadrian, lest your fear empower it further. I suspect that it was badly hurt by _your_ attack in the Forbidden Forest, and now here, though it may be more at home than we, it has hopefully not had the chance to heal from the damage you have done to it.'

'Thank you. Headmaster' Standing up a bit straighter. Hadrian raised his wand.

"_Catena fulgur_." The incantation seemed all of the encouragement Eldingr required, as the torrent of lightning was so fierce that it could hardly be called chain lightning, appearing to be far more similar to a lightning-storm than a lightning chain. The blue light leaped from one dementor to another, slamming into their spectral cloaks, and coursing through their skeletal demonic bodies, leaving naught but burned husks behind.

Gaaar! Ööriinkhöö nutag dakhi aidsyn daranguilald kherkhen yaaj dovtolj baina ve? How dare you attack the Imperium of Fear in it's own dominion.

'Oh dear Hadrian, you seem to have made it angry.'

'Oops.'

Suddenly the shadows coalesced into Gorzoth. But this was far from the Skeletal being that Tom had summoned, this was a Demon of the Fifth Circle in all of his glory.

'I thought you said he was weakened.'

'I suspected. And sadly for us, it seems that I have suspected wrongly' There was little mirth in Dumbledore's voice, and if he was being honest, that scared Hadrian more than Gorzoth.

Gorzoth still stood nine feet tall. The demon's skeletal body was still covered in thin white shimmering skin. Now however, the creature was cloaked in fuschia robes, made from what appeared to be some kind of skin. Human, Hadrian realized with a lurch. Partial armor adorned the Lord of Fear's chest. The BloodIron that the Demon's of Hell were known for using making an appearance. On its head was a spiked crown, one that had a human head impaled, still somehow alive and moaning on one of it's spikes.

Gorzoth's mouth of razor teeth grinned cruelly, no longer was it fooling around, it wanted to _punish_ them for their impudence. In its left hand, was a scepter, and in it's right, a chain-link sword the black metal had an oily sheen to it. Poison. and unlike before Gorzoth's eyes burned with neon fire.

'Fuck me. ' Hadrian was too horrified at Gorzoth's true appearance to even care that his school Headmaster, the Great Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Fucking Dumbledore had just swore like a schoolchild.

* * *

In a frankly astounding act of acrobatics for a man of his advanced age, Dumbledore leaped out of the way of the whip like poisoned weapon the Demon was wielding, firing a series of siege ending curses at the demon in front of them. Each one hit, each hardly scratched the thing, each could have leveled a small castle.

Demon hunters used _very_ specific weapons, and followed _very_ specific rules, using _very_ specific spells. If by some chance, a demon hunter chose to fight a Lord of the Fifth Circle, they were most certainly committing suicide. Even if they had an army, and even if they had a dozen other veteran demon slayers. _And _if they were fighting the thing on _Earth._ It was still assured suicide. The survivors of the fight would be the exceptions not the rule.

Hadrian and Dumbledore were far from Demon Hunters. Hadrian had hoped to never see a Demon from anything above the Seventh Circle. Dumbledore hoped to never see a Demon period. As such neither knew the very specific equipment they were missing, nor the very specific spells that would actually hurt the thing.

But in a strange stroke of luck, both were using Divine Artifacts, something that most if not all demon hunters had no chance of acquiring or welding.

So as both had experienced in the past, their Artifacts, realizing that if they did not want to be trapped in the Nightmare dimension in the hands of some Demon, they best start feeding their partners advice and co-operating with each other. Fast.

Hadrian shielded Dumbledore from a line of Hellfire, the shield he raised popping as the Demon's weapon slammed into it, forcing him to roll out of the way to avoid being skewered.

"_Obelis editionem sancti luminis" _Dumbledore, muttered spell after spell. Firing daggers made of light that burned the Demon wherever they made contact, it seemed Light Magick was the way to go. The only issue with that was that like Dark Magick, it was corrupting. Humans, having been built on the precipice of the balance were not meant to ever wield true Light, or true Dark Magicks. Theirs were only families of the true Light Magicks. Still he would deal with the consequences later. For now he had to fight it.

"_Sagittis exercitum sanctorum" _The spell flitted into his mind, a gift from the Elder Wand, Dumbledore noted with a small hint of mirth that it seemed it was invested in his survival after all.

"_Verum telo Iovem"_ A bolt of lightning flew from Hadrian's wand, sparkling like none Albus had witnessed, blasting through the Demon's shield and flinging it back, it's sword flying from its hands. Embedding itself in the hard stone ground like a hot butter-knife through butter.

'Headmaster, I think I have an idea on how to kill it.' Hadrian was starting to feel the exhaustion from the amount of magic he had been casting and channeling the last god knows how many hours.

'Care to share Hadrian?' The strain on Dumbledore was evident even telepathically.

' Divine weapons can kill Demons.' Hadrian said 'the various gods have been fighting and killing them for years.'

'Hadrian' Dumbledores voice had a sense of anxiety that he didn't expect. 'Killing a Demon of the Fifth Circle is not something that will go unnoticed. Every one of the Hellspawn will want to find you and kill you.' Dumbledore said with fear.

'You must have learned the creed when you were younger; _what can be done, what can not be done, what might be done, and what should not be done.' _

`What choice do we have?' Hadrian said exhaustion boiling into frustration. 'If we don't end this, it will end us.'

'If one of us must, it _will_ be me.' Dumbledore said firmly. 'I have far more experience to deal with what may come, and have lived my life should the worst befall us.'

'Headmast-'

'This is not a point of discussion Hadrian.' Dumbledore cut through his protests, while blocking a spell that would have turned them inside out while keeping them alive.

Flicking his wrist, Hadrian cast a lightning whip, wrapping around the demon's legs and dragging it towards the unlikely duo.

Knowing that it was unlikely either of them survived the battle, and even if they did, even less unlikely that they survived the consequences. Hadrian sent over a wave of gratefulness and appreciation.

Never in his life had he had the privilege of an adult who did what had to be done for _him._ No matter the risk. Not since his Amilessë. Suddenly he was taken back to that moment the moment where his Amilessë had sacrificed everything. It would not be that way this time. Even as Dumbledore's wand grew from its wand form into a true deathstick, a long thin staff, bumps going down its length, each side ending in a sharp point, extending to strike the demon as the two of them got within striking range, Hadrian reached up and wrapped his hand around his pendant. With a deep breath, Hadrian activated the power of the pendant, seeing as time _froze._ The time that he had was limited, and turning Eldingr into its true form, Hadrian thrust the blade at the demon's face even as his control over time failed, and it returned to normal. Sword and Death stick striking the demon at the same moment. The sword beheading the creature, even as the staff pierced its heart.

There was a moment, when the two looked on in shock as the demon's aura failed, where the entire dimension froze, where all of the color seemed to fade from everything. The fel creature was dying, and the very dimension was in mourning. Hadrian and Dumbledore looked at each other

'Hadrian, what have you done?' Dumbledore's anger at his disobedience at the outcome flooded the connection, but more than anger was fear..

'I will not allow you to make this sacrifice alone Albus,' was all the justification Hadrian provided, stalwart in his choice.

'I hope you will not regret your choice here today. Though, I must say from the bottom of my heart I appreciate the intent, the extent of which you will never know.' The two mortals were left, with the large corpse. The area becoming eerily quiet as for the first time in a millennia a demon of the Fifth Circle died at the hands of a mortal. An uneasy feeling settled on Hadrian.

'What do we do with those' Hadrian enquired gesturing at the body of Gorzoth.

'Spoils they may be, no good will come from having artifacts from hell.' Dumbledore replied.

'Perhaps there is some ritual we can do? One that can make use of such rare connection to the Hell plane?'

'You may be right. Be fast, take as much blood and fluid from the stone as you can, I will deal with the artifacts.'

Acting fast, Hadrian conjured silver vials, ones that would be able to handle the corrosive nature of the blood, and with a flick of Eldingr, once again a mithril wand, he siphoned out the blood of the demon. Summoned out it's teeth and using a particularly nasty spell removed its skin. Two more flicks claimed its bones, and hair. Finally he was done, and joined by the headmaster, who after gesturing to Hadrian to stay back cast a spell. One that summoned to Hadrian's shock a black hole. Within an instant the body was gone and the hole closed.

Dumbledore visibly sagged. It was clear that that had not been an option for battle. Too taxing, too risky.

Hadrian and Dumbledore, crossed the bridge, that Dumbledore had transfigured, and facing the mirror. Realized a flaw in their plan.

They had expected a door, but what they got was far from that. Though the mirror in front of them may function as a doorway, that did not mean that it would function that way for them.

The mirror was just that, a mirror. It read the Mirror of seramtnhgin.

Hadrian looked at the mirror, and saw a script running across the top.

'_Elvish' _Dumbledore muttered with a grimace. 'It reads _Speak friend, and enter._'

Hadrian was filled with relief much to the confusion of the Headmaster. Albus knew, reading the tongue and speaking it were vastly different. None who were not in possession of Elvish Magick would be able to utter a single word of Elvish. It was not in the nature of humans to have Elvish Magick, it was wild beyond what the human mind and body would be able to handle, Dumbledore knew only a handful of words, none of which would be useful here.

Hadrian's laughter jarred Dumbledore out of his thought, fearing for the sanity of his charge, Dumbledore went to place a hand on the clearly distraught young man. After everything, this setback.

Hadrian laughed how clever the people of his Amilessë were. Laughed at the joke the Elves played on those who couldn't understand their genius. Reaching out to grab a confused Dumbledore, Hadrian placed his hand on the mirror and spoke.

"Mellón" Hadrian said. And though Hadrian did not know the exact implications of what it was he just did, Dumbledore knew it would shake the foundation of their very world should anyone ever discover it. The Human who had Elvish Magick and a Divine Artifact.


	3. Master and Apprentice (8729)

**Chapter 3 Master and Apprentice  
A/N: From now and forever I own nothing, J.K. and Warner Brothers own it, talk to them.  
_ You may thank the one reviewer who left a good, thought out the review for me for the fact that you get the third chapter now and not next week. _  
**

Daphne lay on the ground. The last thing she remembered being Dumbledore throwing her off the plateau. Her head spinning with disorientation, she slowly lifted herself up, looking around. Daphne was confused as she realized that she lay in the Great Hall, Hadrian's wand lay on the ground, near her hand. It was the middle of the night.

Looking around at the empty hall, she flicked Hadrian's wand, casting the tempus charm. 4 am. She must have passed out for several hours. Rushing out of the hall, Daphne ran out, she had to find a professor. What if no one knew about Dumbledore and Hadrian! Sprinting through the halls, she made her way to the entrance hall.

"Professor! Professor!" Daphne shouted.

Soon enough a disgruntled looking Professor McGonagall ran out into the entrance hall wand brandished, visibly sagging with relief when she saw Daphne.

"Miss Greengrass!" McGonagall ran over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I was kidnapped! By someone named Tom, Dumbledore and Hadrian, they came to save me, they got sucked into something." Her eyes widened as the memories of the battle she was just in returned to her. "He used my blood to summon G - " Suddenly Daphne realized she was unable to speak, no she was choking on the word. Literally unable to speak. The significance of the word _Unspeakable_ suddenly much more relevant to her life.

"Miss Greengrass, who took your blood?" McGonagall said urgently. She had an idea of what might be happening, and she hoped it was not the case.

"He said his name was Tom." Daphne swiftly found herself pulled into the older professor's embrace, the horrified look on the elderly transfiguration teachers face somehow making her feel better.

"Come, child, let us go somewhere safe to wait," McGonagall said, ushering her off towards the Headmaster's office.

"Professor" Daphne began once they were seated in Dumbledore's empty office. "I saw things. _Unspeakable_ things." McGonagall's eyes opened wide with horror. Placing her arm around Daphne, the professor rubbed soothing circles on her back.

"B-but-but how are you not mad?" she said in sudden realization. Flicking her wand, she began waving it over Daphne's body.

"_Revelare tuus scriptor. Scutum revelare tuum. Ostendis potentiam tuam." _Slowly Daphne began to see in the silver mirror across from her position on the reading couch of Dumbledore's office, a glow formed around her head and chest. Runic script sweeping into complex and interlocking holy geometry.

"_Sigils_." McGonagall breathed. "But how?"

"Hadrian did something when Tom began using the blood." At this very moment, the mirror the both of them were looking into rippled. McGonagall looked at it in shock. It flowed like water, no longer showing the beautiful circlet like design of runes McGonagall had revealed glowing on her brow and chest. Instead showing a churning darkness like a torrent of water, flowing through where the mirror was. To their shock, the door rippled and out of the mirror stepped Hadrian and Dumbledore. Both of them looking much worse the wear than either of the women had ever seen either of them.

Dumbledore's beard was singed and bloody, sweat and dirt covered his form. His robes torn in more places than not. Blood staining several of the cuts. Hadrian not much better off. Several wounds of his own were leaking a steady drip of blood. And both men looked pale enough to be a ghost.

"Albus?" McGonagall gasped.

"Yes Minerva, we have had quite the adventure. We are all fine, just a bit worse for the wear." the Headmaster responded even as he felt the wards confirming his identity and Hogwarts itself greet him with a light brush of his mind.

"I-I I will call Poppy. Stay here." The transfiguration Professor moved with urgency, as she ran to the fireplace, and called out for the infirmary as she jumped through the green flames.

Hadrian swayed on his feet, Dumbledore pushing him towards the couch. Flicking his wand, Dumbledore conjured a chair for himself, sitting down with a sigh. The Headmaster looked far older than he normally did.

Hadrian flicked Eldinger, and suddenly the dust grime and sweat were stripped from him. Hadrian let out a long gasp in pain as all of the dust, grease, sweat blood and the like had vanished from his body. Albus winced.

"Has no one ever told you that _sorgify_ is not for humans?" Hadrian looked up at the professor grunted, and looked back down too tired to say anything in his defense. The headmaster sighed. He couldn't blame the boy. As even now the implications of what the two had done settled in his mind.

Daphne was looking at Hadrian with a kind of gratefulness and confusion that would have been comical if not for the fatigue he felt deep in his old bones.

"_Accio_" three bottles of Pepper-up potions flew into his hand. "Drink this. It will make the exhaustion ebb enough for the conversation that lies ahead.

"Tell me Miss Greengrass. What do you know about Unspeakable Magic?" Dumbledore said with a weary voice.

"Not very much sir. Only that it is very dangerous, advanced, and none who do not know of it can be spoken to of it."

"It is, to be frank, a great deal more complex than that. But essentially it is Archaic Magick, Magic that deals with dimensions, Magic that deals with entities, Magic that is Anathema, I things that go against the very meaning and structure of Civilization, culture, order or the like. It is more dangerous than anything else." Dumbledore steepled his fingers. I never expected to know any who knew of or tell any student at Hogwarts of the Unspeakable arts. The Unspeakables themselves deal exclusively with this kind of magic".

See what you witnessed today is something that had it not been for Hadrian's fast actions, would have driven you mad, and shattered your consciousness. The human mind is not meant to understand or see certain things. And when it does, it does so at tremendous cost to one's sanity. The Olde Ones, Demons from the first to the fifth circle of hell, abominations, these often malevolent creatures demand far beyond the ability of most wizards to survive contact with. But the forbidden has an allure, and for this reason, the Ancient Magic users, they bound Ancient Magick Barring our dimension from the others. Baring those denizens who would do us untold harm from our reality, unless summoned into it. Then, to ensure that even by accident such a thing didn't occur. They made the entire subject _Unspeakable_. Without the right protections, you would have gone mad at the sight of that Demon forget the Fel Language that Tom was foolish enough to invoke." Dumbledore finished gravely.  
"So the reason that I couldn't speak to McGonagall was that she doesn't already know of the unspeakable arts?"

"Yes you can tell anyone general information, but speaking the name of a Lord of the Fifth Circle period is certainly _Unspeakable_. Never forget Miss Greengrass, that names _have Power." _

"What did Hadrian do to me? McGonagall seemed shocked that Hadrian had managed to cast the Sigil protection on me. What makes that so hard."

"Young Hadrian is full of surprises." Dumbledore had an unreadable expression on his face. "It is safe to say that Hadrian has learned things many Wizards far older and far wiser, could not dream of" Hadrian looked embarrassed. Dumbledore turned towards Hadrian. "The real question I have for Hadrian is why? Why hide? Why not seek those who could help you grow? Who could help you develop?"

"I have been alone since my mother died at the hands of Voldemort that night," Hadrian said firmly. "No one cared for me then. I took care of myself. With the exception of Daphne, my classmates ignored me, my professors mostly ignore me, and my own family forgets my existence. If the world knew what I could do, no one _could_ ignore me. But why headmaster should _I _give others the opportunity to show off _my accomplishments_, when no one cares about me as I am. If no one wants to know just Hadrian, then tell me Headmaster Dumbledore, what right do they have to know Hadrian, Wielder of Eldingr, who in his third year can summon complete Sigils with gestures, and began learning the Eldritch and Arcane arts before his first year at Hogwarts?" Hadrian finished, calmly. He was not angry, nor was there a hint of angst about his situation. It was clear to both Daphne and the Headmaster that he had come to terms with his life.

"Your parents-" Dumbledore began only for Hadrian's eyes to literally glow with power.

"The only _Mother _I have known dead." At this the Headmaster's bushy eyebrows rose.

"The elf." He said with dawning realization.

"My Amilessë," Hadrian said with conviction. "I will show you both this because, Daphne, is my best friend, you, Headmaster have earned as much, after you chose to prove yourself the first adult to put me above your own needs in recent memory. I will make you swear no oaths, but I hope you realize the implications for me should this ever get out." Drawing Eldingr. Hadrian tapped both of his ears, revealing that unlike normal human ears, they tapered slightly into a point. Even un-glamoured, they would have been very subtle, but when pointed out, the difference was clear.

"She adopted you." the Headmaster said in shock.

"As she lay there dying, with her life-blood and Magic she anointed me with Sowilo." Hadrian Gestured at his forehead, where the thin silvery lightning bolt could be seen on his brow. Dumbledore sat visibly shocked.

"I am afraid that I don't follow Hadrian," Daphne said softly.

"Hadrian is perhaps the first Half-mortal half-High Elf on Earth in several millennia," Dumbledore said reverently.

"Half-Elf? But wouldn't blood adoption by a House-Elf make him a House-Elf?" Asked Daphne naively.

"Miss Greengrass, what we call house elves are the last of the Elflings. The last of the chaotic extra-dimensional Elves, whose existence itself was Chaos and Magic given form. They were trapped here when this dimension was sealed from the others, the rest making their home in Álfenhein, and being separated from the cosmic Magic as Earth is, shattered them. They were crippled by the loss. They had no choice but to join wizarding families to sustain their magic." Dumbledores tone took a melancholy tone as he recalled the tragedy of the Elves. "How many young House-Eves have you seen? There is hardly a single one born in a century. The truth is that they are more stunted and twisted shadows of their true selves than their own class of creatures. It must have been Hadrian's magic that removed what I am sure would have been a majority of the negative effects of such a choice. No wonder, you can even wield an Artifact from Álfheimr." Dumbledore tapered off of his rant, looking thoughtfully at Hadrian.

"If you would forgive an old man for his musings, this was far more than I expected, but to circle back around to Miss Greengrass' question. Hadrian has a unique aptitude and knowledge of that far beyond the comprehension or desire of the average mortals. Minerva as powerful of a witch as she is, has neither the inclination nor the reason to venture into _unspeakable_ topics, She lacks the desire to study the deeper mysteries of Magic, so she has never had any need to get the Sigils. Nor has she had any desire to have them. With them, as I am sad you will discover, the world is a far harsher and more terrifying place." Dumbledore's characteristic, levity was gone, and in front of the two, was the man of legend.

The fire glowed green and Poppy Pomfrey and Minerva McGonagall stepped out of the larger than normal fireplace in a swirl of green fire.

"Dear god Albus, what has happened now?" The elderly matron fretted in worry her wand scanning the three of them. She began running her wand over their wounds and closing them one after another the scraps and scrapes that littered their bodies, a major part of what took her so long.

"Thank you, Poppy, my dear." Dumbledore thanked her even as she tutted over Hadrian's cracked ribs and other injuries.

"Albus, how did you come out of the mirror?" Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Where did you get stuck?

"Somewhere U_nspeakable_ Minerva," Dumbledore replied with a hiss as she gripped his arm painfully tight.

"Surely not Albus." She said with a quiver in his voice.

"It has been resolved. Young Hadrian performed admirably. Protecting their minds, souls, and bodies from egregious harm." Minerva's eyes widened in shock the hint of what Hadrian had accomplished. Daphne seemed to be getting paler and paler as she sat there, seemingly drooping on to Hadrian as her strength and the adrenaline left her. Dumbledore noticing this took the opportunity to speak with Hadrian alone.

"Minerva, if you don't mind, will you escort Daphne back to her room in the dungeons, I think she could use some rest to process from the stress of the last 12 hours. I will keep an eye on young Hadrian, don't worry about us at all." McGonagall looked at the Headmaster suspiciously but asked no further questions, as she waited for Poppy to check over the exhausted girl, and then led the pale girl out of the Headmaster's tower, Poppy following behind the duo, returning to her infirmary after healing whatever superficial wounds she could.

"Hadrian, now that we are alone, there are several things we must discuss. Most pressingly, do you know why I had asked that you allow me to kill the Demon of the Fifth Circle alone? Do you know the significance of the decision you made when you slayed the Lord of the Fifth circle with me?" Dumbledore looked troubled, and weary as he sank into the chair across from the couch that Hadrian still rested on.

"There is a price for every action Headmaster, I am aware, what the price of our survival was, I can not tell you." Hadrian said cautiously.

"Let me explain to you your folly then Hadrian. For all of your power, you lack experience. Killing a Demon of the Fifth Circle is something that is considered beyond the capabilities of even fifty of the strongest Wizards. Tell me Hadrian, since I clearly knew so little of how much esoteric knowledge you possessed, what are the denizens of the Fifth Circle?"

"I know little Demonology, my focus was always on more savory topics within the Anathema and the other Unspeakable Magiks. But from what I know, the Fifth Circle is known for the wrathful. But I will admit myself confused how _that _demon could possibly be of the Fifth Circle." Hadrian responded curiously.

"Ah Dante. A good guess, but dangerously false. Understand Hadrian, Demons have hierarchies. The Circles of hell, and the Circles of Demon's are two unrelated concepts. In the Hell dimension, the nine circles are something separate, like nine separate cities each differing in their own way, but the Demonic circles are different. They are like ranks. The Demon's of the first Circle are Dark gods. They are horrible beyond our understanding, Elder gods. Beings so powerful, their own presence would crack the Earth in half. Luckily for us, such beings are bound by laws far more binding than anything you or I could dream of. The Demon's of the Second Circle are like Demonic gods, of a power level that would be akin to the god that wielded your Eldingr in his childhood. Demons of the Third Circle, are the highest of what can be considered _Mortal_ Demons, if such a title would not by its nature be a gross misuse of the word. They are Demonic royalty. Every one of them far more than a mortal would be able to even combat. Fourth Circle Demon's are True Demon Lords. Meaning while they are under one of the Fifth Circle Demons, they also have some level of autonomy and will. Fifth Circle Demon's are considerably weaker than any of those I have mentioned yet." Hadrian's eyes bulged slightly at the idea that what they had nearly died fighting was by any definition _weak_.

"Summon your Soul, Magic Hadrian." Hadrian realizing he probably was not going to like where this was going grit his teeth and did what his Headmaster said. His hands formed a series of complex gestures, which he used to circumvent a far longer and tedious ritual to even call forth his Soul Magic in the first place.

The spell completed, Hadrian was bathed in light, surrounded, were the sigils and runes that were _part_ of his soul, and identity. The rainbow of colors blossomed across his body, glowing with raw magic, as they were summoned forth. They flowed like water, crackled like lightning, glowing like embers, and were seemingly rooted into him.

Some runes like the Sowilo his Ámilesse had used her lifeblood to carve into his magic more visible than others. The Aegis of Athena, the Seal of Rationality and the Soul Shield also visible amongst several others to those who knew how to look amidst what might have been hundreds of other Soul Runes. Hadrian noted with some degree of satisfaction Dumbledore's bushy grey eyebrows rise up comically high at the sheer number of runes.

"Most impressive Hadrian," Dumbledore said with appreciation. Gesturing casually, the wizened man revealed his own Soul Magic, the True Script spiraling out of him to the point where it was impossible to see where Dumbledore began, and where his magic did. Flicking his fingers, the ancient headmaster pulled up one symbol that he had never seen. And there on a glyph that Dumbledore summoned forward, even as all of the other Soul Runes faded away from sight was written in the True Script several titles; _Wielder of the Elder Wand, glowed in grey, Weaver of the Threads of Telor, in pale blue, Protector of the Immortal Flame,_ in gold, and several dozen other titles glowed amongst them, but the final one, which glowed the brightest in a dark purple read _Slayer of Gorzoth the Frightful of the Fifth Circle._

Drawing on his own Magic, Hadrian found the same sigil within his own Soul Magics, and like Dumbledore, the same title was written into his own Soul Magics. _Slayer of Gorzoth the Frightful of the Fifth Circle. _

"Killing a named _Demon, _for an Elf or a Godling is no large accomplishment, but for a mortal, it says that we _vermin_ are capable of playing where we are not wanted nor invited. It is dangerous, and every single Demon of a reputable strength who encounters us will feel a certain sense of duty to eliminate us." Dumbledore sighed. "I had hoped to spare you this burden, of fighting each and every hellspawn you encounter. But you alas failed to heed my request."

"It seems Hadrian, that I have been missing a great deal in my distance from you." Dumbledore continued cautiously. "You have developed into an exceptional young man. One that I am sure your ancestors would be proud of." Hadrian nodded his head, accepting the Headmasters compliment with grace. "But, that pride notwithstanding, you have now fully entered a world beyond the _right _of mere mortals. One which I too am now forced to walk. I think that there are many things we can learn from one another. Many things that I can teach you still." Dumbledore continued on, cautious not to offend the young man, the young man was exceptionally skilled and powerful and had been nothing if not polite throughout their rather unorthodox interaction. Still, with Hadrian's power, his own century of knowledge, there was much that could be accomplished in lessening their respective burdens.

"I know I owe you for saving me. For helping me through the Nightmare Dimension, and now explaining this to me. So what do you want?" Hadrian asked wearily, knowing full well that the Headmaster wanted something from him. "If it is Eldingr, I am sorry to say I am quite attached to it." Hadrian said with a hint of steel. Dumbledore looked taken aback, and a mite offended if Hadrian was honest. Perhaps he had read the situation wrong.

"No-no my boy you misunderstand me, I do not want your artifacts, as quite frankly, I have my own, but rather I was looking to perhaps formalize our relationship. It was ever so productive, and for the first time in a long time, I found myself enjoying the company of someone who was like me in so many ways. I am offering you mentorship. Protection, wisdom, and more importantly a hundred years of knowledge". Dumbledore's eyes held no hint of a joke. He was deadly serious. Hadrian returned his stare.

"I accept." Hadrian responded. Dumbledore blinked.

"Somehow I have the feeling as similar to me as you are, you are far different in ways I hadn't considered. I did not dream of you accepting my offer so easily. In fact, I myself had to be worn down by Nicholas for a month before I saw the merits of his offer. Your answer does you credit Hadrian." Dumbledore said, with radiant eyes. Yes, it seemed the old man really was excited about this.

"I will not be controlled, Headmaster." Hadrian spoke firmly. "My choices are my own, I have had no parents for years, nor do I need nor want one now, and what has happened is sure to get out, and with it, is a guarantee that Lily and James will suddenly focus more on me than I would like. This will free me of even that restriction. "

"Do you know what an apprenticeship entails?" The headmaster enquired curiously. Hadrian nodded his head, and Dumbledore continued,"They have fallen out of practice in recent decades. It will be quite a shock to everyone when they find out." And with that Hadrian Potter became famous for a reason other than the incredible things that he did, or for being the elder brother to the Boy-Who-Lived. He was the first and last apprentice that Albus Dumbledore would ever take.

What neither apprentice nor master talked about was that while they had been linked in the nightmare realm, they had felt each others emotions. And something stood out to the both of them; Loneliness, longing, and comfort in the companionship the other brought.

* * *

Hadrian awoke from his nap, casting a tempus, he realized, he was almost late for dinner, and consequently Dumbledore's announcement about his own apprenticeship. It was strange. The feeling of the Apprentice bond between him and Dumbledore, it was strangely comforting. Standing up, Hadrian, cast a mouth freshening charm and readied himself. Today was the day he would be thrust into the limelight. While he was sure to miss anonymity, he knew it was a matter of time. As it was commonly known, there were no secrets at Hogwarts, and what he had done, it had been loud, it was impossible to conceal.

Hadrian suspected that he was not the only student at Hogwarts, to have soul magic, and while he would be shocked if he had less than any other person at the school except Dumbledore, and perhaps Professor Sinestra, he was sure that no one except he was aware of that fact. But now between McGonagall, Daphne, Dumbledore, Pomfrey, the Centaurs, the other creatures of the forest, the students he had run into, the students and teachers with mage sight, who would detect the flare of the apprentice bond ritual as it took a few days to settle, there was a lot of information that people could and would fish around for. So Dumbledore agreed that it was best to get ahead of the political scandal this could balloon into

Hadrian strode in the navy blue robes that Dumbledore had gifted him. Artifact robes, given to him when he was an apprentice under Nicholas Flamel, a man who Hadrian had not yet met, but soon hoped to. The robes boosted certain attributes, like reading speed, comprehension, fluency and the like, and limited distractions. Also,they looked bad-ass.

Hadrian strode through the doors, Eldingr tucked into his wand holster at his waist. It seemed to sparkle in the light as he strode through the hall, all of the eyes in there on him. He heard whispers from all of the students, as they turned to see him, striding in, out of dress code, with a confidence he had never felt the need to exhibit.

Sitting down at the Ravenclaw table, he ignored the whispers from all around the table as people looked at him. He looked towards the Slytherin table where he saw his purple eyed friend looking his way. Giving her a wink, he turned back to the table and waited in silence for the dinner to begin.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to say a few words before we all get too befuddled by the most excellent meal that awaits us. Yesterday was a rather momentous day, Hadrian Potter found and defeated, at no small risk to himself, the so called Heir of Slytherin in what was a sterling demonstration of knowledge, cunning, bravery and loyalty, and inter-house-unity. I decided to take an apprentice." Dumbledore paused as the entire hall was filled with the tittering of the Hogwarts gossip mill exploding with theories.

"May I present Hadrian Potter, my Apprentice." Here Dumbledore beckoned towards Hadrian who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Unsure of what to do, he simply stood. Unsure of what to expect, Hadrian found it more disconcerting than he had hoped when the hall fell into silence. Not a single person uttered a sound. The whole hall stared at the Eldest Potter with something akin to confusion. Not much caring about his fellow students' thoughts on his change of title, Hadrian sat back down, glancing and Dumbledore.

His action seemed to shake the staff out of their shock as they began politely clapping. The rest of the hall joined soon after. Polite, but utterly confused.

"Wait, John has a brother?" he heard one Hufflepuff '_whisper'. _

"Do you think Dumbledore mixed up the two Potters and meant to call on John?" Every comment made Hadrian more and more sure that putting these fools in their place, and stepping out of the shadows was the right choice. Hadrian ignored them, and once, Dumbledore was done with his feast, ate in silence.

* * *

"Hello, Hadrian." Daphne's voice caressed his ear in the way it always did when it was just the two of them.

"Hello Daphne, how are you feeling?" He responded, turning to face her, leaving the complex runic algorithm for the Sigil of Secrecy he was trying to uncover on the table in front of him. It was one of several sigils needed for the Fidelius Charm. Daphne was dressed simply, her black cloak open revealing her normal green and grey Hogwarts shirt, tie, and skirt.

"I am fine, thanks to you. How are you doing? Congratulations on the apprenticeship." She said with a radiant smile. Her purple eyes sparkling merrily.

"Thank you, Daphne, I am doing alright. I am just a tad frustrated is all." Hadrian sighed. He really couldn't understand _why_

people were the way they were. While he had expected less applause than even what he had gotten, it still bothered him a little bit that people's gut reaction was that there was some mistake and that his accomplishment was Johns.

Looking into Daphne's eyes he noticed something that hadn't been there before, a hardness. Brow furrowed, he reached out and grasped her shoulders and maneuvered her right in front of him, and looking directly into her wide eyes, he pulled the startled girl into a hug. She tensed for a second before melting into the embrace.

"We need to talk, you have been through a lot lately, and knowing how to process and grow is something that you will need to do for yourself, but if you need anyone, I am always here for you."

"Thanks Hadrian," she spoke _into _his chest, nuzzling into his warm chest the longer the hug went on.

"Hadrian?" Daphne said after several minutes of them sitting like that, her wrapped in his arms.  
"Hmmmmhmm?" He mumbled back to her.

"You know what was the worst part of all of what happened?" Her voice had an uncharacteristically vulnerable quiver to it.

"No, what?"  
"The start to finish feeling of helplessness." He felt rather than saw a hot wetness on his chest, she was crying it seemed.

"I see." He didn't. Her sarcastic laugh at his response showing him that she didn't believe him in the slightest.  
"I am glad you are alright Hadrian."

"I am glad you are as well Daphne."

"So do you want to teach me how to cast single rune spells?" With her bright eager eyes were inches from his, he had little choice but to gulp and agree.

* * *

"Welcome to the Gryffindor - Ravenclaw match we have all been waiting for! This match is not only the deciding match in the Hogwarts cup but, also the first match where John Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, will face off against his elder brother Apprentice to Headmaster Dumbledore, Ravenclaw's Seeker, Haaadrian Potter." Lee's voice rang out across the packed quidditch pitch. Dumbledore stood and without drawing his want spoke, and the _entire_ stadium heard his voice as if he was sitting right next to them

"Today we are honored to be the world debut of the first-ever player-focused Quidditch viewing orbs. Designed by one of Hogwarts' very own, the ingenious orbs will track the players and show us a close-up view of what the players are experiencing high above the field here on these screens, for our viewing convenience. We thank the Department of Magical Games and Sports for their constant support. Now, let the match begin!" Dumbledore flicked his hand, and sparkles erupted across the stadium, the color of each house flowing from each section of the stands, swirling and forming the Hogwarts banner at the center of the pitch before exploding in a myriad of colored sparks.

The game began with a roar as the snitch was released, people's emotions still running high from what they felt to be a rather masterful bit of theatrics on the Headmaster's part. The snitch immediately took off, zooming away up and out of sight. Hadrian rocketed up into the sky, his Firebolt rocketing him through the air high above the quidditch field. As he flew around the field searching for the snitch, he noted the once clear sky begins to cloud over. Hadrian was reassured by the presence of Eldingr. He had brought Eldingr at Dumbledore's insistence, his new Master had stressed the need for keeping his artifact close by in case he should need it, especially after having been marked as the Slayer of Gorzoth.

Scanning the quidditch field, Hadrian searched for the glint of gold that would reveal the snitch. It was peculiar, while he was by no means close with John, he didn't actually _not_ like his brother, they just never related, talked. They both lived different lives, but since he had been Apprenticed to Dumbledore, he had expected a conversation at least, maybe a letter from his younger sibling, or something. But strangely he had seen neither hide nor tail of John since, and today, when he saw him on the pitch, he found himself even more alarmed. His brother looked exhausted. The black rings under his eyes were visible from even the distance between the two, and while John seemed to be performing adequately enough in the match, Hadrian was worried.

Frowning, Hadrian, flew forward, intent on checking on his brother, right as a glint of gold glittered as the snitch flew past his head at breakneck speeds. John and Hadrian's brooms snapped upwards, and without hesitation, the two were chasing after it.

Spinning in spirals as the two tried and failed to catch the snitch, the two spiraled up into the sky, breaking the cloud cover, neither seeker noticing the clouds darken dramatically nor the sun's brilliance shrinks away. Nor did they notice their breath fog in front of their mouths, after all, they were thousands of feet above the ground, a little chill was to be expected in such inclement weather.

Hadrian felt more than saw the snitch, speeding after it, his brother neck and neck with him. Reaching out, he plucked it from the air, noting that surprisingly his brother had stopped a ways behind him. Turning to see what had prevented his brother from even attempting to stop him or try and catch the snitch on his own, Hadrian saw a truly horrifying sight. John floated stationary on his broom, pale as fresh snow, shivering in front of a wall of darkness. No not darkness, darkness would be preferable, Dementors.

Hadrian took stock of the enemy. While it was not the entire Azkaban contingent, it was at least several thousand of the minor demons. Enough to send a very real wave of trepidation through Hadrian. If they attacked the quidditch pitch, from this range, and this little warning, the casualties would be catastrophic.

The sky darkened further, going from dim to dark as the clouds around them thickened, the result of dementors and their presence physically manifesting itself. Licking his lips, Hadrian, realized in alarm that his brother, no matter his relationship, he was an innocent, they were attacking because of him.

Hadrian, realizing that he was no longer playing quidditch, pulled out his wand, and for a single second revelled in the thrum of power flowing through his being as the feeling of electric power that flowed through him as his wand settled into his hand. Hadrian noticed small sparks of lightning flicker through the clouds as he brandished Eldingr.

With a flick, John and his broom hurtled towards Hadrian, who banished his brother down towards the ground, he would hope that even from this height, someone would have the wits to stop his fall and prevent his certain death.

* * *

On the ground there was shock. When the viewing spell had switched to John Potter's perspective, and had seen him in front of a churning _mass_ of Dementors. Suddenly, John was pulled backward broom and all and sent careening through the clouds. The Charm switched to Hadrian's perspective just in time for someone in the crowd to point out a rapidly growing dark speck punch its way through the thick clouds. John Potter was falling, still several thousand feet up in the air, but rapidly approaching the ground, falling to what was most assuredly his death.

Screams pierced the stadium. Dumbledore sighed and stood, no hint of his normally grandfatherly visage present. Students were in danger. Raising his hand, the Elderly wizard's voice was heard loud and firm all the way to the Castle as he poured his Magic into his spell. .

"Arresto Momentum!" John Potter slowed down. Dumbledore gritted his teeth, as the spell exchanged his magic for the ability to burn off the speed that John had acquired as he fell. His magic rushed back, refilling what he used nearly instantly. "Players to the field, the match is over." Dumbledore eyed the vortex that was forming in the clouds above. Lilly who had latched on to James sobbing into his chest immediately ran onto the field, followed by what could only be a majority of the stadium, and was greeted with her pale, still but thankfully still alive son.

Someone switched to Hadrian's orb, and the whole stadium was plunged into silence as every eye was held transfixed at the sight of the Elder Potter staring at the Dementor host with only the slightest bit of trepidation. Suddenly lightning flashed and the connection cut out. Making the screaming resume.

"Dumbledore, this is madness, how have the dementors amassed in such a force over the pitch? They are under Ministry control! Disaster, what will we do... The press will be a nightmare... Rouge Dementors. Yes... Dumbledore!" Minister Fudge and his cohorts swarmed the wizard. Looking at him in desperation in the face of such a disastrous situation.

" Minister!" Dumbledore's voice cut through the fool of a Minister's bumbling. "Why don't you _lead_ the children and visitors to the Great Hall and _I_ will handle this" Dumbldore stood, his robes flaring, as he approached the Weasley twins. Looking at both from over his glasses, even as thunder began flickering overhead and wind began buffeting the grounds. Looking pointedly at Fred Weasley's broom he said "If you don't mind, I shall be borrowing this for a second." His voice tinged with mirth at the Weasley Twins conflicted look of awe and trepidation. "I shall return it to you in the very best of condition, of that you have my word. Thank you, now off to the Great Hall with you two." Ushering them onwards, Dumbledore mounted the broom. Sigils would simply bring unneeded attention to him and Hadrian. The Ministry was paranoid and archaic, and powerful magic made them twitchy. Kicking off the ground, He launched himself at the storm, reaching out to his Apprentice to alert him of his arrival.

* * *

Something shimmered past him, and Hadrian realized with chagrin that the orb that the Department of Magical Games and Sports had spelled to him would most likely be broadcasting what was happening to everyone below. He knew that he would come under far more scrutinty than he wanted should the full scope of his powers become known to any of the Ministry or the other Purebloods, all of whom would not want the Potters, Blacks, or Greengrasses to have connections with such a wildcard. Willing a small bolt of lightning to hit his wand, and flow into him, he grinned as the spell shorted out and he felt an unexpected boost of power as the residual magic from the lightning energy flowed into him, ready to be used.

Floating in front of the writing mass of shadows, floated a single Dementor this one had a crown, made of gnarled metal. Hell Iron he realized with a shudder. _Hell Iron_ was a metal found in the depths of Helheimr where the souls of the damned were forcibly manipulated and forced into being smelted and forged into the monstrosity that was a Hell Iron. Only one dementor and his aides were ever depicted as wearing or wielding any sort of Hell Iron. Dementor Primus, in other words, the King of the Dementors, and his loyal and terrifying guard.

Things, Hadrian knew were about to get serious. The dementors swirled restlessly, it seemed they were waiting for something.

"_Lufttrykk_" Hadrian felt Eldingr supply. The clouds swirl, and below his legs, swirled a cloud, one that was shockingly solid to the touch. This was hardly the time to try and outfly a hoard of flying monsters on a broom of all things. Flicking his wand, his broom shrunk, and he slipped it into one of his pockets. He would bet good money that his master had seen enough to be _very_ worried, and would shortly be joining him.

_/ Ta, mönkh bus negen, bidnii Ezen Gorzot shig aimshigtai negiig alakh khün myanga iontoi baikh bolno. You mortal, he who would kill one so frightful as our Lord Gorzoth, you shall suffer a thousand eons./ _The Demonic speech echoed through the air, the shadows growing stronger.

"_Dementor Primus, you honor _me with your presence. You are not permitted to be here per your agreement with the Mortal Ministry, and your covenant with them." Hadrian's eyes flickered with lightning as he spoke, that lightning he had absorbed_. _The Dementor clearly recognized the threat. Within a few seconds the monsters all began screeching, their chilly aura growing more and more vicious and violent.

_/Ta nadad mönkh busyg tushadaggüi. Do not presume to command me mortal./ The Primus snarled back, the Dark Tongue _

"_I presume little Lord of Fear. Do not presume to take me here of all places. Remember your limits." _

_/Aan gekhdee byatskhan mönkh bus yum baina. Bi khiine. Tany gazryn olon niit khamgaalagdsan baidag ch khuvi khümüüs tiim bish yum. Bid yaaj öör öörsdiin üürgee biyelüülekh ve?. Ah, but the little mortal doesn't realize. I do. While the public of your land are protected, individuals are not. How else could we perform our duty? EeEehaahaa EeEehaahha./ _Hadrian's brows furrowed when the rest of the noises the Primus made didn't mean anything to him. He felt no small amount of revulsion when he realized it was the dementor's laughter.

Readying himself, Hadrian began swinging his want in slow concentric circles over his head. His eyes glowing ethereal green and cracking with the earlier lightning he had summoned to disrupt the monitoring spell. This was a spell from the Potter family codex, it would not create, but could stoke. In Hadrian's case, the presence of the Dementor's and his previous spells had already perfectly set up the components for the Latin chant.

"_Ego tempestas. Non est tempestas. Ego tempestas. Non est tempestas." I am the storm, the storm is I. The storm swirled like a hurricane around Hadrian's small swirling cloud. "Ego tempestas. Non est tempestas"_ _He had to thrice bind the storm to himself, but the third time, his voice didn't emanate from his mouth, but rather from the Eldingr itself. A deep grating booming voice that he realized was the storm acknowledging his right. _His primal ritual chant completed by his artifact. He knew that the way such a spell worked was exponential, the third casting using n3 energy to bind the spell. Hadrian noted that each clockwise circle that his wand traced in the air above him, gave him more and more control over the tempest that Hadrian had now chanted into being. The Dementors dove for him as the winds buffeted the fel creatures.

Hadrian simply willed his cloud down and away from the attacking Dementor's giving him a bit of space from the manifest shadows intent on destroying him.

"Catena Fulgur". Several scores of Dementors were eradicated by the gigantic lattice of lightning that flowed not from Eldingr, but from the storm itself. Hadrian, felt his precognition expand incredibly as the spell settled into his control. Hadrian froze, as he realized that unlike normally, the lightning spell took a staggering amount of energy, suddenly every drop of rain became like a nerve, every second stretched and he saw the dementors swarming around, felt their trajectories, and their freezing presence. Reaching out with his mind, Hadrian spoke to the storm itself.

'Destroy the unnatural ones. Aid me' Hadrian felt the storm acknowledge his request, and saw the blinding and deafening blasts of lightning shred dementor after Dementor apart. The storm was chaos manifest. Looking up, he saw a dementor mere feet away from him, grasping his pendant, he breathed in, time freezing.

Realizing that while Eldingr was occupied with controlling the chant, it would not be able to cast spells, his artifact could, however, be useful in another form, glancing at his wand he willed it to change into its true form. The blue and silver wand, elongated in a ripple of motion into the leaf shape sword just as Hadrian's control of his artifact slipped, and time unfroze, Hadrian, thrusting the blade into the Dementor that had been nearly on top of him. The Dementor screeched and exploded.

Hadrian got into the swing of the battle, zooming around on his summoned cloud, slashing Eldingr, destroying the Dementor's that managed to get close enough to him with his blade while trusting the storm to continue to destroy those out of his reach. Dementor husks fell by the dozen through the clouds each second. He was sure that he would have some explaining to do.

'A passage if you would Hadrian' Dumbledore's voice echoed through their bond. At his behest, Hadrian communicated his own desire for Dumbledore's safe passage, and he felt the storm open what would be by any meteorologist's definition and impossible partition in the storm wall. Several seconds ticked by as Hadrian felt the Headmaster approach.

Suddenly a blinding white light seared through the clouds as Dumbledore arrived, on a broom of all things. His phoenix patronus causing the Dementor's that were left to screech in pain.

"It seems Hadrian, that I should have more faith in you. I came here thinking you would be in need of rescue, and it seems that you are far from needing any assistance. It seems that your summoned storm was far more effective than expected." Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow as he saw Eldingr's form. "I was unaware you even know how to use a blade Apprentice." Dumbledore's mirth was surprisingly evident as his Patronus flared slightly from where it was terrorizing the Dementor's, who were unable to escape the Storm's churning winds. Hadrian rolled his eyes.

"It is not particularly hard with such a blade as Eldingr." Hadrian rotated, and slashed through a dementor, letting the cloak get sucked into the vortex of churning air that was beyond their little eye of the storm.

_/Manai ezen yaagaad Ayangyn ilbechin tand unasan ni todorkhoi baina. Bid tantai taarakhgüi baigaa ni notlogdoj baigaa ch gesen bidnii Ezen ta nar shig doromjlolyg shiitgelgüi üldeesei. Ööriigöö beld. It is clear why our Lord fell to you Wielder of Lightning. While we have proven to be no match for you, know that our Lords will not let an insult like yours go unpunished. Prepare yourself, the legions of Hell shall find you and yours/._ The Primus' last words echoed through the storm, unhindered by howling winds or the roar of lightning destroying it's brethren.

"Begone enemies of Hogwarts. Back to Hell with you." Dumbledore's furious voice echoed seeming to embody the essence of an inferno, and with a pulse of overwhelming force, that nearly drove Hadrian to his knees, the swirling storm was set ablaze the crimson and gold fires burning through any and all dementor's that remained trapped in the buffeting embrace of Hadrian's storm.

"Now Hadrian, we have taken care of the uninvited guests, perhaps it is time to end this most delightful storm before we drown all of hogsmeade. I very much hope you are as knowledgeable on how to dismiss such spells, as you are on the methods of summoning such flashy and dangerous magic." Hadrian found himself rolling his eyes at the Headmaster's attempt at levity, he could feel the very real concern the older man was feeling for his safety and was not so clueless of his own feelings to know he felt a degree of appreciation for the older man's sentiment.

Closing his eyes, Hadrian reached out with his mind, magic and will and _released the spell, _allowing the nature magic to settle back into its natural form and state. The storm slowly losing momentum, the vortex of wind and lightning that Hadrian had spun dying out, leaving only clouds.

"Well time to face the music. I guess. I am glad you at least had the sense to destroy the broadcasting device. We are lucky there was no use of Unspeakable or Ministry restricted magic." Hadrian almost scoffed at either of them caring about _Ministry Restrictions_. Then he realized that Daphne, his _parents_, and the _Ministry _was down in the stands.

"Well shit." Hadrian sighed. Dumbledore smiled brightly at Hadrian.

"Now Hadrian, you know that swearing is not tolerated at Hogwarts. That will be 5 points from Ravenclaw" Hadrian just stared at the headmaster in disbelief. Before tossing the snitch to the old man before pulling his broom from his pocket as he unshrank it and began his descent down to earth.

* * *

It was to silence that Hadrian and Dumbledore entered the Great Hall. The massive wooden doors opening with a deep groan. The aurors guarding the minister, having set up a defensive position in fear of attack. The Great Hall was packed. Every single person who had been on the field had vacated as they were to the Great Hall. Students, faculty, ministry viewers, media representatives and finally parents and other family had all gathered for the end of year event for Britain's most prestigious Wizarding school.

The entire hall waited with bated breath for Dumbledore to say something. But he simply strode forward, the Elder Wand swishing through the air like the wand of a conductor, the entire hall righting itself as if nothing had ever been wrong. In a work of Magic that captivated even Hadrian, in the span of only three seconds the entire hall found themselves seated at righted tables. Sorted not by house, but rather randomly with those nearby, everyone found them sitting together, teachers and students alike, all together intermingled with the Ministry delegation and the visiting-parents and alumni. Dumbledore reached his Owl podium, and Hadrian saw him look at it with fondness.

"Be at peace. The Dementor menace has been dealt with." Dumbledore said from his podium which, to Hadrian's alarm, he found himself standing on the left side of.

"Today was very nearly a disaster for the British Wizarding Society, had it not been for the quick thinking and bravery of my apprentice here", there were gasps all around the hall as those who did not know were informed of Dumbledore's new apprentice.

"While the original intent of the Ministry was to use the Dementors of Azkaban as a sword from which to protect its future generations, we _must _remember the most important lesson taught to Wizardkind; We must always seek to know the difference and consequences of what we can do, and what we should do. If it was not for the leadership of Minister Fudge, who quickly thought to bring the students to safety in the Great Hall, today might have been a great tragedy. But as young Hadrian proved today those who would see Hogwarts or its inhabitants threatened must remember our slogan ; _Never Threaten a Sleeping Dragon, and additionally," Dumbledore looked directly at Minister Fudge _much to the amusement of Hadrian, "Help is always given to those at Hogwarts who ask for it." Dumbledore steepled his fingers together.

"While at some point I expect the media and the likes will desire an interview, but for now, I insist that everyone enjoy some of Hogwarts' hospitality and cheer on this dark night. Let's rejoice in our good fortune, and also bask in gratefulness for what we are given rather than what we have almost lost this day. With your ears full, with my feeble attempt at wisdom, I invite you to eat your fill." Hadrian watched as Dumbledore waved his hands, and the food appeared on every table.

Hadrian found himself with the Minister, the Headmaster some seventh year Gryffindors, and much to his horror, the Potters. He locked his emotions at his close proximity to his family up, and donned the elite pureblood mask that he had cultivated after his lonely first year at Hogwarts. This was the model, obedient, average student that everyone else saw, not the Slayer of Gorzoth, nor Dumbledore's apprentice. Hadrian felt a strange emotion overtook him as he finally looked up from where he had been stirring at his food and saw the three other Potters staring at him with looks of confusion and doubt. After eating, Dumbledore politely invited the Minister his guard, the Potters and Hadrian to his office for a 'nightcap'.

He had excused himself as soon as he was polite from the table to 'get some rest' before they all met up. It was as bad of a lie as he had ever told, but no one so much as questioned him, even though it seemed as if Lily wanted to badly. Standing, Hadrian made his way over to where Daphne was sitting. She was sitting with Queenie, and their mother Orphelia, both of whom smiled warmly at him as he moved to stand next to Ophelia.

"Hadrian dear! How are you? Nasty business with the dementors, our family owes both you and the Professor for such bravery." Hadrian noted that there were more eyes on their interaction than not, and so in a nearly effortlessly classy way, Orphelia had asked Hadrian about his health after the dementor attacks, but he had a strong feeling she was talking more about the incident with Gorzoth

"I thank you for your concern, I am quite well Madam Greengrass, and anyone would have done the same. I just wanted to stop by and thank you for the wonderful scones that you had made for me that Tuesday I had come over. I still remember your delicious cooking fondly."  
He just wanted to let her know that he would be by for brunch Tuesday, which happened to be several days after the term would be let off, he had not been by for much of anything in a while, she would understand his meaning. They had much to catch up on.

"I am so glad you enjoyed yourself. We do so love when you come by dear. Do not be a stranger." She replied with a kind smile. They would talk on Tuesday.

Not wanting to draw any more attention, Hadrian left the Great Hall and did, in fact, find himself passed out on the couch in his room.

**A/N**: **I have ne****ver thought that I would be one for long A/N until I tried _responding_ to reviews, and realized I could not. SO, A/N's it is. I am of the belief that in-text A/Ning is crass, so don't expect any from me, ** **Also, thanks to the four reviewers, I have decided to post a chapter far earlier than I had planned to, I wrote that I didn't much care about reviews, but then they were *actually good*, and I now care. It was pointed out to me that a. WBHL has not really served a purpose at all, - this will be hashed out more this and next chapter. b. Lilly and James have had no screen time; you will see them both next chapter.**

**Additionally, he astutely pointed out that "**

_**It also feels strange that young Voldemort, instead of summoning the Basilisk - if it exists in this AU - to assist him first, chooses to immediately summon an eldritch abomination he has no control over. Unless he learned that his older self managed it, so he deluded himself into thinking he could as well despite the power gap.- Very good observation Guest Reviewer,**_** I will as a reward for such good reviewing tell you ****why he did so. **

**Think about it. Unlike in the books, this Tom actually manages to possess his victim and get a body for himself, and it is a pureblood heir to a Wizengaumt seat holding family. in other words the #dream. Tom is going to stick around (I think) but he is now his own character, distinct from Voldemort. He also unlike Voldemort, has been the best in his little world, so when he is humiliated by a Third Year, who he feels is beneath him, he immediately goes for the magic he feels is beyond his foe. Tom, in his arrogance, vastly overestimates his own control over Garzoth and then gets immediately tortured by it. The Basilisk also was inside the chamber, Tom (or Tob) was in the forest. **

**Anyhow, thanks for the tremendous reviews. REALLY hope you guys keep reviewing, guess what is going to happen ENGAGE, and I will most likely reward you :D. - Ok, sorry for the long A/N. - Omega573**


	4. Explanations (6614)

**Chapter 4: Explanations**

Hadrian blearily cast a tempus, and realized with a jolt that he only had 15 minutes to reach the Headmaster's office. He had napped for nearly an hour, something that did him more good than he would care to admit.

Standing, Hadrian, ran into the shower to wash away the sweat and grime from the last few hours, and after making himself presentable, Hadrian spelled his hair dry as he ran to the Headmaster's Office, his neatly combed shoulder-length hair, pulled into a ponytail. Hadrian's Silver grey metallic inner tunic and royal blue silk dress robes giving him a far older appearance than what most were used to.

Striding up to the Gargoyle outside of the Headmaster's office, Hadrian spoke the password and ascended the stairs, the door already open with the expectation of so many guests.

"Ah Hadrian, on time and looking sharp as always, it seems we are yet to be joined by our guests. We shall have time to talk later, but for now, pay close attention to the reactions and behaviors of the ministry workers. Most of politics happen out of the Wizengamot, as you well know." Dumbledore said with a smile. The Headmaster had rearranged the office sitting area so that it closely resembled an arc. With a round, intricately carved tea table in the center.

Placing his hand on the boy's shoulders, Dumbledore looked at him proudly. "Hadrian you did very well today. That was a threat that I would not have been able to handle at your age. Had you not acted, and had the dementor's broken their oath, I fear that there would have been a catastrophic number of casualties. "

"Thank you, Professor. But one thing, the Potters, they will attempt to control me, to use me like they use John. It will not work. I will never be their pawns," Hadrian said only a hint of worry. Dumbledore sighed.

"Yes, I suspected at dinner when I saw their hungry and bewildered looks, that you have hidden your potential for all these years for a good reason. Fear not, they will do well to remember their place. You are Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, something that will protect you where a younger sibling would not be protected. We shall finish this later, the Ministry is at the gargoyle." His words seemed prophetic as the stares snaked up, bringing with them the Minister and the two guards he had with him, and a grey cloaked distorted figure, that could only be an Unspeakable, and the Potters. Hadrian felt a jolt of nervousness course through him as Unspeakables were rarely people you wanted to interact with.

"Dumbledore!" Fudge walked into the office, his bowler hat snugly on his head. "I hope that you are recovered after that messy business on the quidditch pitch?" The Minister took the seat that was offered to him, sitting along with James, Lily, and John, the Unspeakable chose to sit, closer to Hadrian and Dumbledore.

"Ah you know minister, these old bones aren't quite what they used to be." The Headmaster said in a flawless attempt to play at feebleness.

"Bah, Albus will outlive even young Hadrian and John here." The minister said with a wave of his hands. The two Aurors had chosen to stay outside the gargoyle, trusting that the Minister would be safe with the Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock of all people.

"Headmaster, it is good to see you again," Lily began, "We just wanted to thank you again for saving John after he was viciously banished from such a height." Hadrian rolled his eyes. "We wouldn't know what to do without our John."

"It was nothing my dear." Dumbledore replied placatingly.

"If we could cut to the chase Minister. My time is valuable." The distorted voice of the Unspeakable was strange.

"Yes, yes, so I have brought Unspeakable Tenebris here to ask some questions Mr. Potter in Private, ones that the Ministry is also _very _eager to get answered." Minister Fudge had a peculiar gleam in his eye. Hadrian noted that James and Lily also looked disturbingly interested in what was being said. And the Minister's expression was one that Hadrian didn't like one bit.

"Ah you see Minister, that would be an issue." Dumbledore stood harms splayed openly. Hadrian is my apprentice, and is still quite young to our dance. I would be remiss in my duties, and he in his if either of us allowed him to be placed in such an awkward situation without Hadrian's Master's presence." Minister Fudge's eyes narrowed.

"Now now Headmaster, I am sure that as Hadrian's Parents our permission would suffice? It is important that the Government is aware of the facts." James Potter, also conveniently a foot-in for the recently vacated Chief-Auror position said.

"I am afraid that upon Hadrian's placement into an Apprenticeship, he is considered an adult, and thus the only authority beyond his own, is that of his Masters, and I must kindly reject your kind offer.

"Now see here Dumbledore, this is a Ministerial Decree, surely we don't need such archaic rules to bind us. The last time an Apprenticeship was held a hundred years ago. We just want to ask a few questions." The Minister tried to convince Dumbledore, his own ire evident.

"You see Minister, there are unsavory elements everywhere that would seek to take advantage of Hadrian. I am afraid I must insist." Dumbledore said with just a hint of steel in his otherwise polite demeanor.

"Fine. What are your conditions?" Unspeakable Tenebris voiced up from next to the irritated Minister.

"Our discussion will be privy only to us, and I want oaths Unspeakable Tenebris." Unspeakable Tenebris turned his head towards the Minister and waited.

"No unacceptable. Albus, I am Minister of Magic, and the Ministry has a right to know! How dare you ask me for a magical oath!" The Minister genuinely looked offended.

"Oh I am sorry for the confusion Cornelius, but I was not asking _you or the Potters _for an oath, rather only Unspeakable Tenebris." Dumbledore was immediately leveled with four angry glares.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, remember your place is not to separate _father _from _son, nor _as you seem keen on doing in this instance, to control information that we as Hadrian's _parents, and the ministry _as the _Governing_ body have every right to know about." James bristled angrily, clearly as offended as the Minister.

"Why does Hadrian get to know when I don't?" John complained loudly. "I am the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Friends, friends, please. Be calm. Let me explain why I have insisted on this arrangement before you make such demands." Dumbledores presence swept over the inhabitants of the room like a calming blanket. "Tell me Lord Cornelius Fudge, of House Fudge, and Lord James Potter of House Potter. Have you so easily forgotten your upbringing? Do you not remember the creed of Pure-Bloods? Our duty to see and walk the line of what can be and what should be done? Of What Magic we as Wizards have and what should lie beyond both our right and greed? Do you so easily forget your elders' teachings that you would forget Magic Unspeakable and Anathema?" With his last sentence, all of the blood drained from James flushed face, Fudge began worrying the tophat that he now clutched tightly between his hands.

"Wait, Unspeakables? Like the Unspeakables, like the Ministry Department?" John's curious voice broke the silence. Faster than any expected, James, paler than any had seen him, stood, knocking his chair over as he drew his wand.

_"OBLIVIATE." _James spell rocketed into his youngest son's face, much to the shock of Lily who jerked as her husband leaped from his chair, and recoiled back as he Obliviated his own son.

"JAMES POTTER!" Lily shouted, her own wand now brandished, her chair joining James' on the ground. "How dare you obliviate our son?! Have you lost your mind?" Her ire rose as he walked over past the shocked Minister and Grabbed John, "Go to your room, Dumbledore explained things, you were distracted, and it was boring. You are tired from eating dinner, and will go to bed, not thinking of this meeting again unless brought to your attention."

"Yes father." John stood up and walked out the door.

"JAMES!" Lily's fury had not abated from what she viewed as a blatant attack. "Explain yourself _now." _

_ "Lily. _Do you think so little of me that I would curse my own son without due reason? Look at the Minister and me do you not see the fear, and worry what causes the Minister of the British Wizarding population to become frail and weak in the face of a single word? Do you not wonder what it is that causes one such as I, Auror Captain, to shake like a leaf?" Dumbledore, Tenebris, and Hadrian just sat watching the interaction with raised eyebrows.

"Is this some archaic Pureblood thing?" Lily asked cautiously, noting his points were indeed sound.

"God Lily, do you hear yourself? Some archaic Pureblood thing. Lily this is _THE_ Pureblood thing. The one lesson that every single Pureblood has hammered into their heads. The difference between what can and should be done. This is not some tradition, this is what protects the fabric of reality! There is a terrifyingly dangerous world out there. Beings Magical creatures that are beyond your comprehension. Beyond your ability to communicate with, beyond your ability to ever fight. Demons, gods, beings that do not fit into your definition of the world. Beings that are so far beyond our limited existence, that we continue existing because we are so _insignificant. Every_ Pureblood _knows_, Just because you can do something _doesn't _mean you should. Every single "Law of Magic" That you think exists is a lie. I obliviated John of that because _I _would not wish the knowledge of the Anathema or the Unspeakable to my enemy, forget my own son who has not even finished his schooling yet._"_

_ "James _surely if what you are saying is true, then people would know?" Lily asked curiously. Dumbledore, waved his hand, the two Potter's chairs righted themselves and Hadrian saw them realize they were still standing and sit down.

"Perhaps it's better if I explain this James." Dumbledore interjected, "Lily, are you aware why students come to Hogwarts? Why Magical children are trained from the age of 11?"

"No, I had always assumed that it was to prepare them for their part in society."

"Partially correct, the real reason is because, if you don't train a child's magic, if they repress it, if they don't understand the responsibility, there is a risk that they could pierce the Veil that separates us from everything else in the world. Things that are _Anathema_ to the very idea of civilization, culture, family, happiness. James was not lying when he said that there were things that could by their very presence drive you to madness in an instant. Now these mysteries are what you would call an open secret. They are unspeakable, most wizards never even learn of them, content in their blissful existences. Fewer wizards learn of the existence of Unspeakable Magic or the Anathema, and far fewer ever witness anything unspeakable or anathema and live with their sanity intact." Dumbledore lacked any of his normal grandfatherly charm. That more than anything Hadrian suspected drove in the seriousness of what he was saying to Lily.

"But what could be so bad that it would be Unspeakable? Anathema?" Lily interjected.

"We will get to that. But know one thing. Only someone who witnessed and survived Something Anathema, or Unspeakable can ever be a vessel for its Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, they all made aware of the existence of what we are discussing now, when they are made a Lord, but they are never able to share it with anyone. If you have learned it from one who seen the Unspeakable, and has shared its existence with you you can never share it, thus why it is Unspeakable. You can never tell John. Doing so is High Treason. But not to the Ministry, to all of Wizard kind, for knowledge such as this threatens more than just lives and law. It threatens reality. It is not for a child." Dumbledore paused, but Lily Potter was deep in thought, of the vastness of what she had just been made privy to.

"You can only ever mention this to one who knows," James said firmly.

"How do you know if they know?" Lily asked the room.

"Traditionally it is by their possession of a Sigil, or Sigils." Tenebris responded.

"They will guard your mind from going mad at the mere knowledge of what you could learn. It is the difference between those who have experienced anything Unspeakable or Anathema, and those who simply know of their existence from one who has."

"Now if we are quite done with explaining the darkest and deadliest secrets known to wizarding kind to a muggleborn, could we move on with this?" The Minister looked more serious than any had seen him. Lily looked offended, but after hearing what she had heard, wisely kept her mouth shut.

"Ahem, I hope you see why I was hoping to only have this conversation with Unspeakable Tenebris, but now that everyone has been caught up, and reminded of the existence of the Unspeakable and Anathema, I should hope there will be no issue with the oaths I demanded?" Tenebris was after all one of the few Wizards who studied the Unspeakable Mysteries.

The chorus of agreement would have been amusing had it not been for the serious nature of the entire conversation.

"How shall we swear?"

"Swear it on your soul." The Unspeakable, cocked his head in what was clearly an admission of surprise by the demand. Dumbledore placed a parchment in front of James, Lily and the Minister, with the words of the oath. "Shall we?" he said gesturing at the paper.

"Ita et ego non iurare soulto meo loqui, admonitus vel communicate est verba quae ego scire in altera hora." They all incanted the old Soul Binding Agreement spell together, the spell sealed by the ripple of magic between all those in the room. Hadrian vaguely noted thunder booming in the sky, the participants feeling, rather than seeing, the rush of the Magic as the oath took effect. Unspeakable Tenebris leaned over the Tea table, looking at the Master and Apprentice duo.

"Just for your own peace of mind. This is an Orb of Veritas, if any here lies, it will light up with a red arrow pointing towards the one who lies," Unspeakable Tenebris explained to the room.

"Now tell me. did you really think no one would notice someone slinging around Hades damned High elemental Magic at that debacle of a Quidditch match? How does a Third Year student know of the Unspeakable? Why did the Dementors attack you? And why for the love of all that is Holy did the Names Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore and Hadrian James Potter appear in the _Record di Cacciatori di Demoni._" Hadrian and Albus both shared a dark look at the fact that already people had noticed their _indiscretions. _Steepling his fingers, Dumbledore, looked down at Unspeakable Tenebris.

"To answer your most important, and also the last question first, someone summoned a Demon of the Fifth Circle into the Forbidden Forest. A _Frightful Demon._ It immediately summoned all of the Dementors the Ministry had placed at Hogwarts, against my express wish I might add," Dumbledore leveled a harsh gaze at the Minister who visibly shrunk back at the implication, not even attempting to respond to the rather blatant accusation.

"Who could even be capable of summoning a Demon? It is a lost Magic, and it is an Unforgivable act!" James Potter burst out.

"Many more are capable than the Aurors are aware of," Tenebris dismissed offhandedly. "Why do you think I am called the Dark Unspeakable hm?" Ignoring the stunned looks of the Minister, and Lord and Lady Potter, Hadrian decided he would try and bring them back on point by answering James' question.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known to the Wizarding World as Lord Voldemort. You are welcome to arrest him Captain Potter." Hadrain interjected with a smirk as James, Lily and the Minister reeled backwards in shock. Dumbledore put his head in his hands.

"_Well done_ Hadrian." His Master's sardonic amused tone gave Hadrian more satisfaction than he thought possible. Hadrian sat back amused as everyone's eyes immediately went to the orb that was sitting idly on the Tea table, then back to him, then back to the orb.

"T-t-that is im-p-possible!" The Minister said.

"John killed him. You must be mistaken." Lily said shakenly, James nodded his head in agreement.

"Nope. It was him." Hadrian responded calmly

"Wait, Why is Hadrian even here?" Lily said suddenly realizing who was sitting across from them. "Isn't all of this Anathema? And Unspeakable, how come Hadrian is involved in this?" Lily was not amused in the least.

"Had Hadrian_ not_ fought several thousand Dementors, and a Fifth Circle Demon by himself I may add, a young girl would have lost her life, and soon after, the entire castle would have been driven mad by the presence of an anathema like the Fightful entering their nightmares. Then having secured a Magical Nexus like Hogwarts for itself, the Demon would have happily summoned a host of Demon's to itself by sacrificing the host of _virgin_ students that are present here, and would have brought the legion of Hell Earth." Lily, James and the Minister gaped at Hadrian, and the implication of what happened. Unspeakable Tenebris just looked at Hadrian.

"Let me just be clear to the three of you. The sight of a Fifth Circle Demon would drive even the most skilled occlumence mad in a minute. Anyone else without shields would have been driven mad on sight. Hadrian not only fought several thousand of Azkaban's Guards, but he also defended and preserved Miss Greengrass's Sanity by casting Masterwork Sigils on her mind and his as soon as he recognized what was going to happen."

"Sigils?" Lily asked James. The Minister also looked like he was interested in the answer so with a sigh, Tenebris explained.

"Sigils are the pinnacle of Runic and Wandless Magic. It is manifest Runic Magic, even the most simple one far beyond any student at Hogwarts. The casting of a single sigil requires deep understanding of Runic circles, which as you can imagine, is beyond most NEWT level students, then you have to have those circles imprinted in your mind perfectly. Then you have to cast runic circles wandlessly and simultaneously." Unspeakable Tenebris Flicked his hand, and summoned a Sigil of Shielding. Lily gasped as she realized every one of the crisscrossing lines of sacred geometry were composed of manifested runes.

"Which ones did he cast?" Unspeakable Tenebris asked, interest evident in his voice.

"The Aegis of Athena, the Seal of Rationality and the Soul Shield" Hadrian answered matter of factly.

"It now becomes apparent why you took him as an apprentice. Had you not done so, several other Arch-Mages would have lined up for the opportunity to do so. That is ... astounding." Tenebris told Dumbledore. Dispelling his Simple Sigil of Shielding with a flick of his fingers.

"James, you never told me your son was so... impressive." The Minister commented to James.

"It seems I was _unaware_ of how _impressive_ he was." The way he nearly mumbled out his response closed any assumption that he knew anything of his son's capabilities that anyone might have had.

"So Hadrian did battle with an Unspeakable 5 threat and several thousand Class XXXXX creatures, as the Third Year. Forgive me if I sound incredulous."

"I'm afraid it is the truth," Dumbledore responded evenly. "But if I may complete my answer to your question, The demon, whose name I will not speak for fear of drawing the attention of anything malevolent towards us, was doing battle with Miss Greengrass and Hadrian, Miss Greengrass attempted to protect Hadrian from the Demon, who had been enjoying the torture of his summoner, while Hadrian did battle with the Dementors. I arrived and defended Miss Greengrass from the Demon. It had cast a Fel Magic on the area, apparition proved impossible, Fawkes was barely able to get me through after several minutes of Hogwarts wards shouting at me about the threat. The demon, having been beaten back, attempted to pull us all into the Nightmare Dimension." The shock on Tenebris' face was hidden by his obfuscating charm, but it was still evident in his body language to all.

"I banished Ms. Greengrass out of the way, and into the safe clutch of my familiar, and Hadrian and I were pulled through the rip in dimensions that the Demon had created. We fought our way out, through the horror that would have driven most men that I know mad, and in the end, were confronted with the Frightful One himself. We did battle, and Hadrian and I killed it and returned to the Earthly dimension with matching Marks." James and Lily both looked at Hadrian with a shocked expression.

"Why did you not summon the Aurors Hadrian?" James asked firmly. Hadrian lost his patience and ignored Dumbledore's imploring look.

"When should I have done that? When I was chasing after my best friends' abductor, my only trail was to follow the failing magic from a protective spell I had enchanted a pendant of hers with as the Darklord tried to break through my protection? Or when I realized that the person who had kidnapped my friend was a resurrected Dark Lord one spell away from murdering me or my friend? Or when there was a Class 5 Unspeakable threat standing in front of me? The Aurors would have had their minds torn to shreds within a minute, a thousand Dementors far too much for even a legion of Aurors to defeat, forget several, you would have only made it stronger." Hadrian said cooly.

"As we were marked, every demon now has an obligation to kill us. No matter how minor they are, Dementors are Demons." Lily gasped in horror as the true reality of the situation set in.

"So every kind of demon, will try and see you dead, just for defending yourself? Is there some way to reason with them?"

"No, I am afraid they are quite right. This is the very reason why ICU banned any and all Demon killing. If you kill one, you are forever marked as a Demon Slayer. No longer protected by the treaty of noninterference." Tenebris said.

"Treaty of Non-Interference?" James asked.  
"Yes, it is one of the reasons why Unspeakable Mysteries exist. Humans and certain 'lesser' beings are protected from those beyond them, so long as they never challenge nor prove able to face and deal with playing on the 'adult table' as it were."

"You can't be serious," Lily said.

"Quite serious," Dumbledore said grimly.

"So the Quidditch fiasco?" The Minister said slyly.

"That Minister was 100% your fault. I told _you_ that the Dementors should be removed it was _you_ who denied it. _You _failed to listen to reason. _Hadrian_ fought them so that they didn't devour the entire Quidditch Pitch sized feast you put in front of them."

"Fine, I accept that I had a role in the creation of the situation. But tell me, Hadrian, how did you _'do battle' _with the Guardians of Azkaban?" There was an edge to his voice and he looked directly into Hadrian's eyes. All of the fear that had previously seemed to grip the Minister nowhere to be seen.

"Magic," Hadrian replied.

"I am afraid that will not be enough Mr. Potter." The Minister repeated.

"Elemental Magic." Hadrian gritted out, displeased by the interrogation.

"Where did you, a third-year learn Elemental Magic, the _Hogwarts Library_?" The Minister asked Sarcastically.

"It is a Family Magic Minister. Though I fail to see how this is relevant." The Minister growled. Hadrian suddenly understood. His power made the Minister nervous.

"It is _relevant_ because I have a Third-year student running around with the firepower to _do battle with _one of the ministry's strongest forces. You could be a threa-"

"Cornelius enough!" Dumbledores' voice rang out like a thunderclap, harsh and with the promise of more to follow. "It is only due to Heir Potter you have advanced information on the continued survival of the Dark Lord, you avoided the slaughter of an entire generation of Pureblood and Wizarding Elite. Twice. _My_ _apprentice_ is no threat to you or your Ministry. Had he not been there, you would surely have been ousted from office for _deplorable_ decision making." All of the fight and the indignation ran out of the Minister. The Potters looked at Dumbledore in surprise, the headmaster rarely raised his voice.

"You are right Albus," Minister Fudge bowed his head.

"I apologize for my harsh words Heir Potter, you have done your nation a worthy service, and if I could, I would see you rewarded for it. Sadly, or perhaps thankfully, this is all Unspeakable, and none beyond us shall know the truth of these events. If I can be of assistance to you, you have only to ask." The Minister's radical change in behavior took Hadrian by surprise.

"Know this Heir Potter, should you want, by this time tomorrow, you could be an Unspeakable," Tenebris Spoke from his seat.

"I am content with my simple life at Hogwarts, I neither need nor want the responsibility of being an Unspeakable. Magic is what I enjoy, and where better to study, then with a Wizard of Headmaster Dumbledore's caliber?" Hadrian replied politely. Tenebris nodded his head in acceptance.

"Many of the revelations from this conversation have proven more alarming than I had hoped, I am nonetheless glad I was sent to investigate this. That, someone, was foolish enough to summon an Unspeakable 5 being is itself perhaps the most alarming of all that was discussed here. We must do our part to find the wayward Dark Lord and condemn him to the Veil before he risks the very fabric of reality in his madness." Tenebris stood, shortly followed by the Minister, they had clearly heard what they needed to, and it was getting late.

"Perhaps Minister this would be a good time to inform you of a leave of absence I will be taking this summer, one my apprentice will be joining me on. There are some mysteries of Magic that are best learned out and about, and talented as my apprentice is, he has much to learn." Dumbledore said gravely. "There is also the matter of our Marks. I suspect there is a way to do something so that every single Demon in creation does not want to kill us, but it is not something I will find answers here in Britain."

"Very well, we shall appoint an interim Chief Warlock and an Interim Supreme Mugwump. Know that while you are gone, I shall not be idle, it is time that Wizarding Britain prepare for a future were the mad Darklord could summon something truly terrible to terrorize it, and I for one will be doing my part to prepare us in resisting that most terrible future." Placing his bowler on his head. He tipped it at Dumbledore and Hadrian, and stood, leaving the office, followed closely by Unspeakable Tenebris.

"Now, can I offer you a coffee or a nightcap? Tonight has been one of terrible revelations." Dumbledore asked the Potters kindly.

"Yes sir, Gin would be fine," James replied.

"For me as well Professor," Lily agreed. Hadrian sat comfortably in silence. Pondering his meeting with the Unspeakable, and the Minister, and his impressions of both of them.

"Why did you never tell us?" Lily asked quietly.

"What?" Hadrian replied startled.

"Why did you never tell us of your thirst for knowledge. Of your magical skill. We are your parents. We deserved to know." Lily continued.

"Deserved to know? My parents. I am sorry I don't follow." Hadrian was not amused in the least. Did they not realize what it was that they had done? How they had ignored him? How they had forgotten him?

"We are your parents. Why didn't you tell us about any of your skills, why did we have to learn from a meeting like this that our son was a genius, a prodigy with skills beyond the most advanced auror?"

"If you had cared all you had to do is pay attention." Hadrian's lack of amusement was souring to actual irritation. "I have long come to accept that I was nothing more than a duty to you, that you only had eyes for John." Lily's eyes shot to James, a look of bewilderment.

"We... don't follow."

"How can you not follow. Are you dense?" Hadrian growled. "You literally forgot about me after John was born. Not once did you check on me, till she died. The bleeding Elf took care of me. Changed me. Fed me. Bathed me. Taught me. Loved me." Hadrian was angry.

"Wait but surely we didn't -" Hadrian had had enough.

"Then tell me one thing I enjoy."

"Uhh studying magic?" James said after a moment.

"One thing that you didn't learn just now." Both parents shared a look of alarm. "Fine, do you have a _single_ picture with me?" Both of his parents' brows furrowed. "Tell me did you drop me off at the station my first year? Come to a single Quidditch match besides the one with John? Give me a single present?" Hadrian's voice was as cold as steel.

"Surely we didn't- James?" Lily said in alarm as she failed to come up with a single rebuttal. James looked back equally alarmed.

"But how could we-" He began. Both had looks of dawning horror.

"Do you know where I slept at home?" James and Lily looked at each other in confusion.

"In your room?" James asked hesitantly. Hadrian rolled his eyes.

"Which room is my room?" Hadrian said, he could feel himself get a little emotional, and was sure that lightning had begun to flicker in his eyes. Lily could smell the faint hint of ozone in the air, but she had no idea where it was coming from. Both Potters sat there looking at each other helplessly.

"My room is the closet connected to the Potter Library. You have _never _acknowledged me, cared for me, loved me, and honestly, that was awful when I was younger. When _my mother died _and I had no one. But do _not _presume to ask me why I never told you anything."

"But I am right-" Lily began

"You have never been my mother. My mother was cut down the night John became the Boy-Who-Lived, she gave her life and Magic so that I would be safe. That is far more than you have ever done for me. I would have loved to tell you everything. For years that was my dream. But now, now I am alright by myself, I neither want nor need a mother any longer." Lily cracked first, hot tears spilling from her eyes as she realized the wonderful boy she had abandoned. James followed soon after.

Hadrian suddenly felt a hand on his shoulders. The calming presence of Dumbledore washing over him. It seems he had come back with the refreshments, though Hadrian suspected it was a ruse to allow the three to talk. He found himself grateful nonetheless.

As he relaxed feeling Dumbledore's own comforting brand of silent support, Hadrian realized that while it would have been nice to have 'parents'. He was ok now. He had survived, become strong. He now has other people in his life that care for him, and that he cares for in return. Ones that love him for him. So he let go.

"We will never have a parent-child relationship," Hadrian said, that only made Lily and James cry harder. "But hear me when I say that I truly bear you no ill will." Hadrian stood. "I think that it is time for me to turn in. I have had a _very_ long day." Walking out the door, he turned at the doorway looking at the Headmaster and smiled in thanks, his support was quickly meaning more to him than he ever expected.

Tenebris removed his hood and obfuscating charm. He always found the irony of a man named Black having the Codename Shadowy, most amusing. As Tenebris reflected on the meeting that he had just had, he realized that things were about to change very soon. Hadrian had grown into an astounding young man. Stowing his Unspeakable grey robes, he walked out of the changing rooms of the Department of Mysteries, and apparated home, entering a silent Black Manor. Striding up the stairs, he quietly entered his bedroom, his wife Ophelia sleeping beautifully, and as he joined her he realized that as keeping Daphne in the dark was more dangerous than safe.

His daughter already had three of the most powerful sigils of sanity, and soul protection possible. He doubted even a God would struggle to crack the mind guarded by those three Sigils of Power. Truly, she had made an amazing friend in Hadrian. But this summer, Regulus Black realized that he would have no choice, it was time to train Daphne in the Black arts.


	5. Searching for Answers (10648)

_**Chapter 5: Search for Answers**_

_**Greengrass Gardens**_

Hadrian stood at the front gate of Greengrass Gardens. He had been over more times than he could count and it never ceased to impress him. It was hardly what you would expect from the infamous Black family. The grass that had given the family its name was exemplary, for Hadrian thought with a wry expression how many places did you _remember_ _for their greenspaces?_

The manor was all that you would expect of a joint Black and Greengrass home. Hadrian of course looked his dapper best, his deep blue outer robes contrasting his inner white tunic and grey pants well. He was after all a pureblood, it had little to do with the parents, and more to do with the family. Still, Hadrian was muscular for wizards, but in a lithe, spry way. His regally angular face and polite countenance would be as befitted his status of the Heir to the Potter dynasty. to anyNo one would accuse him of being a bodybuilder that was for sure.

The door swung open revealing the Greengrass Elf, Kreacher stood in front of Hadrian and gestured Hadrian in to the entrance hallway.

"Greetings Hala'darin, welcome to the House of Greengrass, the Master and Mistress are waiting in the foyer." Kreacher and the other Elves who were old enough could sense Hadrian's true nature, and they found themselves overjoyed with it, to them it meant at least a spark of their heritage persisted, he was beloved by most every elf. Something that Hadrian had originally been scared by, what if they opened their mouths to the wrong people. But it turned out that Elves were not obligated to speak of Elfkind to any who were not their own, and Hadrian counted.

"Greetings anyára," Hadrian bowed his head slightly, the older elf smiled, and gestured Hadrian in.

"It is good to see you as well elfling, come let us not keep the Master waiting." Hobbling down the Hall, Hadrian politely allowed the elf to lead him to where the Greengrasses would be waiting for him. The Foyer opened up, the walls covered in dark wood, and the ceiling with a painted fresco depicting the sky above, similar to Hogwart's Great Hall.

"Hello Hadrian darling, how are you?" Ophelia said with a smile when she saw who had entered the room.

"Hello Lady Greengrass, I am well. Thank you so much for having me," Though Hadrian knew that the Greengrasses had often thought of them as their own, Hadrian himself, had never wanted to cause any problems for one of his only friends family.

"Please, have a seat Hadrian." Regulus gestured to the empty chair across from where Regulus and Ophelia sat.

"How are you? You had quite the eventful few days. We would like to formally thank you for saving Daphne for that you have our undying thanks." Regulus and he had never been particularly close, but they were still friendly with one another.

"Yes I have. It has been a bit much," Hadrian underplayed exactly how much had happened, Regulus was a Black, and Hadrian knew for a fact that meant they were in the know, but even though they had always been kind to him, he had little desire to further risk his friendship with Daphne over such matters as parental disapproval.

"Do you have any plans for the summer?" Ophelia asked. Small talk then, Hadrian thought to himself wryly.

"Yes, my Master and I have a bit of a world tour planned, I suspect I will be out of touch for a while." Hadrian responded with a grin.

" How exciting." Hadrian watched as his friends parents look at eachother, it seemed they would not allow him to leave it at that

"Daphne will be back soon Hadrian dear, but we wanted to talk with you about certain details that we feel we need to _know _about."

"Specifically, what in the blazes happened that my daughter needed to have three sigils to defend her mind from it." It seemed Regulus had little interest in beating around the bush. Sighing, Hadrian unconsciously steepled his hands, a habit he was sure he had picked up from one of his ancestors.

"What do you want to know exactly Lord Black."

"What was it that she saw, and who protected her? The Ministry has labeled the entire affair Unspeakable, and they will therefore not tell us anything about it. I have already spoken to my Grandfather on the matter, the Ministry forgets its place, the Blacks and the Greengrasses have both been pureblood families since before the statute. Still, they are stonewalling us for the time being. "

"I would be remiss if, before we continued the conversation further, I didn't ask for your soul magic sigils." Hadrian was not the Minister nor was he the Supreme Mugwump. He did not have a carte blanche to discuss what he wanted with whomever. There was no taboo per say, but if it ever got out that you were "spreading tales of fantasiful-monsters-that-definitely-do-not-exist," then Ministry inquisitors would come knocking, and then they would have a much closer look into your life than you would ever want.

Truthfully, it was easy to avoid, do not discuss unspeakable magics with any not in the know, and you would be fine. Do not cast unspeakable magicks out in public, and again, no one would ask too closely. Truthfully, there was a rather large gap between what Muggleborns would ever think of trying, and what the truly unspeakable magic the oldest purebloods had access to were. Most wizards kept to utilitarian magic, so there truly was little risk. Few had the desire to learn more, and even fewer had the discipline or materials needed to do so.

Hadrian's eyes dispassionately met Regulus and Ophelia's eyes. There was a bit of a debate because you could learn a lot about someone from their soul magic, it was yet another reason why people did not talk with each other about any of the unspeakable magic even if they knew, confirming the other person knew anything to put you at risk.

"We want an oath that you will never discuss what you see in it with anyone."

"I swear on my magic, that what I see in Regulus and Ophelia's soul magic shall be a bonded _secret" _Hadrians' magic flared, and the shadows seemed to grow signifying magic's acceptance of his oath.

Without saying a word, Ophelia projected her soul magic in front of her, her magic was a brown that spoke of the earth. Not stone, but perhaps an affinity to herbology. Swirling glyphs and runes stretched around a tree, one that he could see was her magic, the sacred geometry that was exclusively _Ophelia's_ was well developed. He could see that Ophelia had several protections for all manner of Unspeakable creatures, magics to protect her soul, her magic, her identity, her progeny, her breath, so on, and so forth. Hadrian noted however that her soul magic was truthfully nothing near what he or Albus had. Why would she need to be anyway? Truthfully, the amount of magic that was defending her was probably unnecessary if she just planned on living. Nodding his head at Ophelia, he turned to Regulus.

Regulus did not seem _excited to share, _but Hadrian knew the man trusted Hadrian. Splaying his hands, Regulus flared his soulmagic, projecting into the air a latticework of runes. If Ophelia's Soul magic had been earthy and herbology based, Regulus's was like his own. _Arcane._ Regulus like himself was predisposed towards _Arcane and _wilder magicks just as he was. But where his magic tasted of skyfire, Regulus' tasted of shadow, the unspeakable had a very different set of protections then Hadrian had, they were more focused on dreams, defense of the mind, and then the standard Unspeakable Agent Sigils and the like. Hadrian's magic was passing over Regulus when he realized something.

Wait, Regulus' magic held its own title like what Hadrian and Albus had gained. Regulus A. Black, Shadow Priest_, Slayer of the Litch Lord Bartumus. _Hadrian's eyes widened fractionally as he connected the dots even as Regulus dissolved the visual representation of his Magic and self.

Shadows :: Tenebris. Regulus Black was the Unspeakable Tenebris, a Master of the Arcane, who already knew more than the rest of the Ministry combined. Yes, Unspeakable agent's identities were always a closely guarded secret. Fine, he would keep Regulus' secret, there was little to gain in not doing so.

"Thank you both for that, now you wanted to know what Daphne saw that required that amount of protection? It was a Demon Lord of the Fifth Circle." Regulus was a splendid actor if Hadrian did say so himself, the shock and horror on his and Orphelia's faces perfect. He would never have suspected Regulus if not for catching his title, and just meeting the man a few days back.

"A what!" Ophelia's voice could have likely cracked glass. "Possession? She was possessed?" Hadrian blinked.

"No Lady Greengrass. Daphne was not possessed, she saw a true summoning," Hadrian wasn't sure that was going to make Ophelia feel better.

"The Ministry told us that there was nothing to worry about, that Daphne was fine. I would suggest a mind healer, Albus has already hidden the memories in Daphne's head, so you do not need to risk any issues on that front."

"What happened." Regulus' voice was harsh and his dark magic was leaking out angrily. Good show Uncle Regulus, good show indeed.

The rest of the conversation with the Greengrass was in some ways very similar to the one they had had in Albus' office except Ophelia's horror in _his _involvement was far more appreciated than Lily's had been. Still, after all was said and done, Hadrian was glad that Daphne's parents would take care of her the way that she deserved, they were always very loving even if they had to pretend differently if only to maintain Regulus' ruse. Still, it was time he noted he got ready to leave the Black-Greengrass residence, it was time to head to Gringotts.

"How might Gringotts assist you today Wizard?" The goblin teller rasped out in a bored tone, his eyes not even leaving the paper he was lazily perusing.

"I would like to speak to Clan-master Ranglok Master of Artifacts and Antiquities." Hadrian's voice sounded like a request, but Albus knew a command when he heard one. He found his eyebrows raised at his apprentices bravado. Having expected to be thrown from Gringotts, for one did not just ask to see a Clan-Chief such as Ranglok, and then to the Master of Artifacts and Antiquities. It was utter madness, Dumbledore, arguably one of the most powerful people in the world politically, would not have dared to do so. Not for the first time, Dumbledore found himself wondering if his charge had not been driven mad in the last few days.

The goblin looked at Hadrian incredulously.

"Have you lost your mind human? What makes you think Clan-Master Ranglok will see you?"

"Ask the Clan-Master if the Ring of Garthr'angol means anything to him for me teller."

"Now see here hum-."

"That will be all," A sharp voice rang out, silencing whatever the Goblin tellers response was going to be in the first place.

"You are dismissed Griphook." The other Goblin nodded, and departed without another word.

"Follow me." The goblin that had interceded barked something in his harsh native tongue, which Hadrian seemed to understand, if his feelings of satisfaction that were flowing into their connection were anything to go by.

The Goblin appeared from behind the curtain to take his place as he appeared from behind the desk he had previously towered over. Coming up to them, he gestured at the two wizards and began walking off down one of the many guarded hallways. Albus' Eyes narrowed as he saw the guards stand up _extra_ tall, and their eyes track the goblin that was leading them down the hallway.

"Hadrian" Albus telepathically sent to his apprentice.

'Albus.' Hadrian responded back with a hint of mirth.

'Hadrian, care to share your plan? Or why Goblin royalty has felt it important enough to intercede on our behalf?" The old man followed Hadrian and the Goblin, as the two were led deeper and deeper into Gringotts.

'No.'

'Why are we here again?' Dumbledore asked, it was so frustrating when you were the one without the facts, and it seemed, ever since he met the boy, he was constantly being put in the position of being frustrated.

'Most people who study the arcane come to know that if you need something found, then often the goblins are the ones to go to if you need someone to find something. I have scoured my own, admittedly large library as extensively as I was able, and I think that one of the things that we are lacking is information. Information over what exactly this mark means, why they exist, and whether it can be rid of, or indeed if it should be in the first place. We have many problems, the largest a lack of direction, shortly followed by a lack of knowledge. So I have decided to cash in a favor that Gringotts owes me, the goblins know a great many things, and will often do just about anything for the right fee.'

'Is Gringotts aware that it owes you?" Dumbledore asked with mirth.

'Most certainly not.' Hadrian replied with more amusement than Dumbledore had hoped. The teller stopped in front of a door. With a plate in Gobbledygook most likely noting the title of the office they were about to enter.

"We have arrived wizards, Clan-master Ranglok will see you now."

"Thank you Prince Orbesk," Hadrian bowed slightly towards the prince. Hadrian did not wait for a response, sweeping past the shocked prince, and entering the office in front of him. "Come Headmaster, let us not keep the Master of Artifacts and Antiquities waiting." Hadrian strode past the two Goblin guards, standing at attention with full battle regalia, glowing orange glyphs floating across the surface of their deadly looking armor.

The office was fairly impressive. The entire room was marble, white marble bookshelves lining the walls, filled with what Dumbledore noticed at a glance were some of the most expensive and rare tomes in existence. This was more than just an office, this was a statement, not of the wealth of Gringotts, no this was a statement of its power.

"Welcome Wizards. May your enemies blood flow and your gold grow, how may Gringotts Artifacts and Antiquities be of use to you today? While you Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, and Chief Warlock Headmaster Dumbledore require no introduction, I am afraid that your companion can not claim the same.

"I am Hadrian Potter," Hadrian said in way of an introduction. He offered little else to the goblin.

"I am afraid Heir Potter, that we have not had the pleasure of meeting."

"So you never did figure out my identity then," Hadrian's smirk looked out of place, nearly feral on his otherwise aristocratic face. "Perhaps I would be better known to the Goblins of Gringotts as the _Arcanist._" the Clan-Master's eyes grew for a fraction of a second, but for a goblin, that might as well have been him gaping dramatically in shock.

Dumbledore gaped at the sight in front of him. Clan-chief Ranglok had bowed his head in recognition.

"It appears Hadrian or perhaps I should call you _Arcanist, _that it seems that you can say the same as the Grand Sorcerer, you as well need no introduction to the Goblins of Gringotts." The Clan-Master enthusiasm, Albus decided, disturbed him. Goblins were sour and surly creatures, not ones that he wanted to be overtly, _dare he say happy_, in his presence.

"Now Arcanist, I hope you will not think me too forward, but we at Gringotts have been trying to contact you with a rather urgent issue. I am sure that for a man such as yourself, such an event would have already been noticed, if you would not mind assisting Gringotts our quest for answers, we would be _most_ grateful."

"Why should I mind, for what is a favor among friends?" Hadrian seemed completely at ease, nothing in his voice suggesting alarm at what was turning out to be an _exchange of critical _information to the _Goblins _of bloody Gringotts. Albus was far from a cowardly man, but he was not a liar enough to pretend to be unaffected by the vicious smile the Master of Artifacts leveled at them.

"See we Gringotts has come across a rather sensitive tidbit recently, it seems that something breached the dimensional wall that was placed around our dimension, and it didn't just happen one time. It happened several times, strangely spaced out for sure, but undoubtedly, something has breached a barrier that has not been breached in more than a millennia. Gringotts would handsomely reward you with any information that you may have on this topic. We like to take such threats very seriously." Hadrian's face betrayed nothing.

"What you are asking about is Anathema, you are aware of that goblin. That it is beyond the right of all but a few mortals." Ranglok bared his teeth, and he was not smiling in the least.

"I did not presume you would be so ignorant _Arcanist_ as to dub _goblin kind_ mortal."

"I do not believe I said anything of the sort," Hadrian replied calmly. "But the point I was trying to make is that any such note of my knowledge of this would bring _undue _attention where it was unwanted. I will want assurances." Ranglok leaned back in his chair looking over his glasses at the young man in front of him, it was a look of appraisal. Hadrian had it seemed earned something akin to respect from the goblin. How unusual.

" I suppose a modified non-disclosure is out of the question?" He said wearily.

"If it were anything else probably not," Hadrian said firmly, the implication was clear. Hadrian wanted something, and he wanted something big.

"Let us be frank then _Arcanist, what do you want?"_

"I want all of the information you have on the Library of Thoth to start." Ranglok choked.

"You want _what?!" _Albus was more sure than ever that he would never be joining Hadrian on a trip to Gringotts anytime in the near or distant future.

"Quite, and I also want three Memoriastrum, and a writ of secrecy from you."

"That is extortion!" Ranglock was beginning to turn an alarming shade of red.

"Let us be clear Ranglock, you asked me for the favor, I walked in on my own will with a different agenda, you are asking me to give you information on dimensional travel, information that it does nothing for my benefit to give you. I already know the gory details." Ranglok's eyes narrowed, and he stilled.

"You were there," he said in realization. Hadrian remained silent. Looking at the goblin blankly. A goblin opened the door and strode in.

"What do you want?" Ranglok snapped his head up glaring at he who would dare intrude on his most important negotiation.

"Master Ranglok, you have your next appointm-"

"Cancel it, infact cancel them all. I am dealing with far more pressing matters than anything they can or will likely provide Gringotts. Now get out!" The Goblin bowed and ran out. Clicking a button on his desk, Ranglock's doors locked.

"I want the memory, and I will give you two Memoriastrum, not three, and the location of the Library." Hadrian raised an eyebrow, and you tell me about the lost Ring of Garthr'angol.

"Our agreement was not for the memory, it was for information."

"You are asking for something that if you were anyone else, I would have you banished from Gringotts for asking about, I think we are both making concessions Arcanist". Ranglok said placatingly, it was almost funny how much Hadrian was controlling the situation.

"I think that you are not in a place to be insisting." Hadrian said casually, "But nonetheless, I propose the following, why don't you give us the information and two Memoriastrum and the right to raid any _single_ tomb we discover that is undiscovered by Gringotts, and on Gringotts land. I will inturn answer your questions, let _you_ and _one _other goblin of your choice, _witness_ a part of my memory. You and the other Goblin shall be under a magically binding oath of secrecy of what you find, unless and until I release you."

Albus noted that Ranglok was clearly unhappy, but not one, but three-dimensional shifts could literally spell the end of the world, and while he would need authority to surrender an entire tomb, Albus would be surprised if his young Apprentice would not get his deal as he laid it out. He would be more surprised if Hadrian could actually find anything undiscovered on _Goblin_ land. Ranglok had already been ready to give the library's location and the Memoriastrum up, the secrecy oath would be a pain, but it was fair.

"I agree to your _harsh _terms Arcanist, but as you know we are a sovereign, if you will allow me, I would be remiss if I did not ask _higher _up the chain of command as it were before I agreed." Hadrian nodded his head understandingly. Ranglok stood, and walked into the antechamber to his office, closing the door behind him. Two Guards entered and stood by the door when Ranglok left, stood watching, but didn't stop Hadrian when he stood and began walking over to the bookshelves lining the walls.

'Ah they have quite a collection of books on the near-arcane out and about, I would love to see what they have tucked away.' Hadrian's voice rang out in his head. Albus stood and wandering over to another section, one that displayed some artifacts, most merely impressive artifacts, a few were more legendary in nature, but again like Hadrian said, rare, not arcane.

'Yes I do see what you are saying Hadrian, everything here in this office is rare to be sure, but it is far from anything unexpected, in fact I would bet that my office has more impressive artifacts and tomes on display. That said let me be clear, I am never joining you on a trip to Gringotts ever again.' Albus grumbled back.

Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of clanking. It was rhythmic, and more importantly cold. Suddenly, the door that Ranglok had left was opened, and eight regal goblin warriors strode in. Albus noticed immediately how Hadrian tensed.

'Bow now' Hadrians hissed command echoed in his head, he immediately followed suit and obeyed.

"_You honor us Prince Garchok of Gringotts_." Hadrian stood, his silky voice holding more than a hint of respect.

"When the topic of conversation is Anathema, and Demons, it tends to attract my attention. Ranglok has discussed your agreement proposition, and we will be adjusting the deal, though I do not expect you to find anything we did not, if I am wrong, it can spell disaster for Gringotts, I want all of the artifacts in the case you find anything."

"Prince Garchok, it is extremely unlikely that we find something you do not know already, but in the case that we do, _giving _the artifacts to you is out of the question, and is hardly fair. Rather I propose you get first right to _buy_ the artifacts in the case we choose not to want to keep them, and a tenth of the gold."

"Fine, your points are valid, it shall be as you said. Now as for the Library, I can give you what we have without an issue, and I agree to two Memoriastrum of your choice, but I require more details of our oaths."

Albus who was used to seeing the going on's of the Winzengaumt, was surprised to see how shrewd both of the negotiators are, they agreed and swore their oaths, Hadrian cleverly blocked every loophole the goblins tried to put in, Albus himself only offering a suggestion or two, and choosing to stay silent instead and wait for the proceedings to wind up.

Hadrian was satisfied, he always enjoyed bargaining with a Goblin. He had in the end gotten about what he expected. The oath, the Memoriastrum he wanted, and the information on the library. In all honesty, he knew that the Goblin's not knowing of the Dimensional rift was nearly impossible, so at least this way, he got secrecy oaths, preventing people from looking too deeply into his dealings on the arcane, and also the goblins were now more alert.

Hadrian and Albus currently waited alone in the office for the two Goblin's to exit the memory they have provided, the battle in the forbidden forest was dangerous to them, but they had not done anything out of the realm of what a mortal should be able to as they had in the Nightmare Dimension.

Hadrian fully expected to get less than he hoped about the library, but he had in all fairness cut the memory short once He and Albus got sucked into the Nightmare Dimension.

Neither Albus nor himself wanted the attention that the Elder wand or Eldingr would bring to them if it got out that they had Divine artifacts for wands. Lucky the oath prevented that very thing. Between the two of them, reading over the contract, Hadrian had no doubt over the contracts ironcladness, and the safety it provided them.

Hadrian looked at the pensive, growing alarmed at the way that it was tarnishing slowly but surely. Dumbledore looked alarmed as well. The Goblin's had just entered a mere minute ago.

"Hadrian…" Dumbledore gestured at the pensive, "if anything happens to them, the Goblins will hold us responsible."

"I know, we need to go in and find out what is going on." The two drew their wands and touched the silvery pensive. The world swirled as they were sucked into the memory, Ink flowed as Hadrian and Dumbledore took stock of their surroundings.

They were back in the forest, Hadrian had freed Daphne, and Tom riddle had just begun summoning the demon. Immediately running over to the Ranglok and Garchok, Hadrian saw their horrified expressions as they watch Tom Riddle begin to summon a demon.

/Öö tamyn guravdagch ongotsny ezen, _Oh lord of the Fifth plane of hell_,/ Dumbledore had his hand on his wand, though it was hidden behind his back. Hadrian following suit.

/ bi chamaig ene ongotsond tavtai morilno uu, _I welcome you to this plane,_/ The glyphs began to glow.

"Ah, you decided to join us after all," the prince said noticing them.

/ tand taalagdakh khümüüstei uulzakh gej baina,_ to feast upon my enemies._/

"Yes this is a monstrous ritual, no Demon has walked the earth freely in nearly a millennia, and this fool is attempting to summon one."

/bi chamd gashuudlyn ezen,I summon thee oh lord of sorrow,/ Tom continued.

"Your Majesty, something is _wron-" _whatever Albus was about to say was cut off.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai. _Gorzoth the Frightful._/ Tom shouted.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai._ Gorzoth the Frightful._/ The Dementors rejoiced. The sound of breaking glass filled the air.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai/ The Demon cried.

Just like before, Gorzoth was nine feet tall. Just like before, the demon's skeletal body was covered in thin white shimmering skin. Each one of its ribs was visible, far too many for it to be mistaken for a human, over twenty Hadrian noticed grimly. The difference was not how it was like before cloaked in swirling black shadows, nor the monsters' gigantic head and macabre grin. Its eyes still glowed red, and its nose was still pinched and small. The hair on his head was still matted. The difference was the ravaged line across the creatures neck where Hadrian had severed his head from his shoulders, and the gaping wound on its chest that leaked black ichor.

What was horrifying was that it didn't even bother with Tom, who looked like he was a glitched computer program, he was flickering in and out of Phase, as Gorzoth turned to look right _at them._

_ I see YOU! _The Demon's voice _echoed_ in their minds. The two Goblins reeled back in horror, the prince immediately clicking his wrists together, his armor lighting up with spiraling Goblin Runes, it seemed he also possessed a sufficiently strong artifact that he was able to maintain possession of it even in the memory. His wicked-looking Goblin longsword flickered into his hand. Ranglok the following suit wordlessly.

The demon flickered appearing in front of them in an instant, slashing at Hadrian with his dagger-like claws. Hadrian lurched back narrowly avoiding the deathly blow. Reeling back at the reality that the demon was still conscious in his memory. Albus he noted was chanting something, and so with a flick, Eldingr returned to its sword form, and Hadrian clumsily deflected Gorzoth's swipe.

How did a puny Mortal like _YOU kill me?! _Hadrian summoned a whip of fire and snapped it across the demon's maw only to see it do nothing at all to the fiend.

I was born from the Flames of Hell, your fire is _nothing, _Ranglok swiped his spear, it sizzled when it made contact with the demon, but other than that did little.

"Move Arcanist, your clumsy use of that blade is offensive and dangerous, defend your Master, we will hold him off."

You will become a slave to the FEAR! Gorzoth's voice echoed from everywhere, as he literally flickered the Orange of galyn döl, or Flames of Terror, a nimbus of fire cloaking his form. Before crippling fear overtook them, it was a sensation that Hadrian had no way to describe. It was the sensation of utter terror. He knew it was induced, but he could not shake it. The Goblins still managed to stay alive, even though he could see their pale skin, the sheen of sweat making it look sickly as they tried to fend off the monstrosity that was trying to kill them.

Remembering how they fought Gorzoth last, Hadrian began casting Light Magic, magic so light, it hurt more than he wanted to admit to use.

Flickers of what looked like star flew from his wand, each hitting the demon. Suddenly, everything in the memory froze, Hadrian turned to Dumbledore, shocked to see his Master, but not the friendly kind Headmaster that he and so many were acquainted with, this was more than even the Grand Sorcerer, this was a presence so powerful, Harry and Dumbledore were but sparks to its sun. The headmaster's eyes glowed Purple, the same Purple that the Hallows glowed.

Y-you are not allowed to interfere! I have not broken any rules! Hadrian wondered what could make a Demon of Fear feel _Fear_.

||Gorzoth the Frightful you have dared to breach the realms! Begone from here! _You_ are unwritten, returned to _my_ grasp in oblivion. So it SHALL BE.

_More will come_ the door is open. It can not be closed again! Gorzoth shouted furiously.

_There was a pulse as _Dumbledores normally steel blue aura exploded outwards, sheathed almost lovingly by the royal purple of whatever was inhabiting him. The flood of the beings power overtaking everything, dissolving the form of Gorzoth even as he shrieked in abject terror. Hadrian spotted a woman ethereal and beautiful, garbed in the purple of the Hallows, lovingly stroking Dumbledore's face, even as he looked into her swirling purple eyes wondrously as the world cracked and inverted itself.

The four found themselves standing back in the office, their clothes the sign that they had not dreamt any of it. Ranglok and Garchok were deathly pale. The pensive lay burning brightly with purple flames, no memory was left in it, nor would the fires go out when he went to do so.

"What was that." Prince Garchok gasped even as he collapsed to the ground in stunned exhaustion. Fighting the Demon, was like nothing he had ever done in his life.

"That was why the Anathema is called such," Hadrian replied gasping even as his legs gave way. Dumbledore leaned heavily on the Death Stick, his expression was one of wonder and strangely affection.

"Headmaster?" Hadrian asked cautiously, Eldingr slipping back into his hand.

"Hmmm?" Albus responded distractedly

"Are you well?"

"Surprisingly so."

"Right then." Hadrian could feel that Albus was in control of himself again, it was a peculiar feeling the knowledge of anothers' state-of mind.

"It seems Arcanist, that you indeed earn your name, as do you Grand Sorcerer." The Goblin Prince bowed in acknowledgment of their prowess.

"I think you have gotten the gist of what has happened." Hadrian said cutting off the Prince. "The door is open, and we have little chance of hoping to survive what next comes through the door as we are. Yes as you have no doubt figured out, it was myself and Albus who killed the demon in the Nightmare dimension. I will not risk ourselves again by _showing you _what happened, you will have to take my word for it. We have both seen the future if we do not act, we were haunted one night, with a vision of the Hell plane, the Demons are aware of Gorzoth's defeat by mortal hands, and they _will _find their way here, they _will _destroy us if we do not take steps, gather allies, _fight._"

"That is for the best, we both believe you Arcanist," Ranglok said from his place against the wall.

"Yes, well as I am sure you know, killing a Demon leaves a mark, killing anything does, but the Demon's are considered beyond mortal, and as such, killing one is akin to advertising that one of your own was so weak as to be killed by a human. Something that I am sure you can see would be _offensive_." At their nods, Hadrian continued, "Both of us are marked having killed a Lord of the Fifth Circle of Hell, and we need answers and solutions and fast, or that memory will be the least of our issues. "

"Which Memoriastum do you want? I assume, all games aside you asked for a reason." The Prince asked after a moment of trepidation silence.

"The ones for Staves and Swords, though I had no desire to share the obvious significance of that bit of information with the goblin nation, what is done is done. We hardly had a choice in the matter." In a good bit of show, Hadrian's want flickered from its normal wand form to the elven sword and back. The Master of Artifacts Eyes nearly burst from his head.

"It cannot be." He gasped, running up to a shelf and pulling a book off the shelf. Placing it on the ground, as the one table was little more than ashes. Flipping it, he stopped on a page. Eldingr, _Sword of the Thunderer Thor_, Prince of the Nine Realms – Lost.

"Yes I am the wielder of Eldingr." Hadrian admitted softly. "What was lost is now found."

"I propose a new deal." Albus raised his eyebrows.

"Goblins are not known for going back on their word."

"Nor shall they today. Rather I would like a new arrangement, an alliance. This is no longer only your issue. All of the inhabitants need fear what is Anathema, and should even one of these monstrosities feel that Earth is a good playing ground, we have a far larger issue than what we had dreamed."

Here are your two Memoriastrum, and the Information on the Library of Thoth, though it is sparse, it will hopefully serve your needs. You have made a friend today, you needed not to rush to help us when you noticed something was wrong, nor do I think you incapable of escaping Gringotts _forcibly_ should you have felt so inclined, however, that you did not, says much." The Prince stood and handed Hadrian two crystal orbs filled with what appeared to be mercury. Funnily enough, Hadrian suspected that the next time he was here they would actually get around to having a discussion about what the Goblins of Gringotts were willing to part with for the Ring of Garthr'angol.

"We all have our own preparations to make for what is to come, I wish you the best in yours, let us know if we can be of any service to Gringotts in the future." Hadrian replied in thanks.

_Though at the time, neither Hadrian nor Albus knew it, they would be very glad that the Goblins were being so proactive, because far too soon, they would need all of the help they could get. _

Tom, recently and rather catchily dubbed as Tob, stared at his reflection in the mirror. The face of Tobias Flint, Heir to the Flint house, previously of little importance or note, had since his possession last October, changed. No longer ugly and brutish, his face had in the last several months slimmed and gained a sophistication that had little to do with bone structure, and that it had been previously bereft of.

Tom had always been powerful, but since he had seized the body of the frankly lackluster Tobias, and merged himself and his memories with Tobias, becoming Tob, neither Tobias nor the shard of Tom Riddle, he had felt something change.

His powers grew, Tob had gained access to things that he had never hoped to have access to, _Family Magik. _As he had been born illegitimately to the daughter of the Gaunts, even its magic did not accept him as its own. As such he never learned its rules. The new family he gained also added something that he had not expected. A convoluted pride and love for their son and eldest sibling, finally making something of himself. Tob had found himself questioning many of the choices that _Tom Marvallo Riddle - Primary_ had made.

If _his_ power had been so affected by simply possessing the body of a pureblood, how had his primary self not done so in the many years he had been surrounded by some of the most powerful pureblooded lords? All of those fools would have been honored to serve him and to further their glorious cause. But now that he had done it, it was clear that it was his predecessors ignorance and arrogance that had stopped him from attaining his goals.

As Tob looked into the mirror, his flint grey eyes staring back at him. Even as the eyes of a stranger stared back at him, Tob found himself cursing his own rashness. He had engaged someone who should have proved powerful enough to be useful, and yet turned out to be strong enough that he, the soul of the greatest Wizard of his age, had been thoroughly thrashed due to his own ignorance. Simply gaining the body of the Flint heir, he had gained more secret Magical Knowledge than he had imagined, magic that had he known, he could not have failed in his goals. He only had the memories of Tom Riddle Jr. primary until the man had given the diary to Lucius. He had sat there unaware until Lucius had one day given him to the fool of a Flint heir.

_Magic _had flowed from him like it had never before, and Tob was not above admitting that he was unsettled by how much of a difference he saw. _Yet_, he had never done this before, never simply _swapped _bodies, shed the limitations of the _muddied _shell he and his magic deigned to possess. But now that he had done it, it was clear that it was his predecessors ignorance and arrogance that had stopped him from attaining his goals.

It had infuriated him, and in that _rage_, Tob had done something that he had grown to nearly immediately regret. He had against the wisdom of the memories of Tobias Flint, done the one thing that Tobias' father had always told him never to even think of trying; he had broken the creed. Tobias was never smart, powerful or stupid enough to try this himself, but he had seen the Scrolls of Maledictus, and Tom had been able to _remember _the Fel text enough from Tobias' mind to summon the Demon, just like his old muse Herpo, and in tearing the veil had unleashed something that would haunt him far more than his own inadequcy ever would.

Voldemort, as far as he knew, could never managed to _read_ the Scrolls of Maledictus or the various Arcanica for not even the most reverent of Purebloods would risk the wrath of their family magic, by shirking their family obligations and sharing to an outsider their most precious _Family Magicks. _Magic that was protected from Legimancy, from forcibly being taken, never be coerced out of their wielders._ Secrets_ their wiser ancestors had bound to blood. No matter the moniker Tom Marvollo Riddle Jr. - Prime tried to claim, in the eyes of such magic he would always be a _mudblood. _

It was due to this reason that he had committed the cardinal sin. He had ignored the creed of Purebloods, for indeed he was not one at all like superstitious, small minded people, with their small minded _rules. _So he had in his anger ignored the Family Magick, ignored the memories and thoughts of what had once been Tobias Flint, and he had using the power of a muggles _life,_ who he had originally intended to serve more _celebratory causes_, and called for something Frightful. And it _came_.

Perhaps the worst part of his choice was that he had thought it would exist at his whim, his arrogance, knowing not _what _he was summoning, _what _he was attempting to control and dominate, the scars that ran across his back and most importantly mind and soul, from the _attention_ of Gorzoth would never leave him. He had been overpowered without even a thought. His mental shields not even the illusion of a defense in the face of the monstrosity that he had summoned.

In that too this_ Hadrian _had proved his superiority over him, managing to hold off the dementors and Gorzoth himself, until help could arrive. In some ways, Hadrian Potter had saved his life, and Tob resented Hadrian for showing him his own _weakness_. But no matter how much Tob resented Hadrian Potter, he _hated_ _Gorzoth_ even more. That creature, _it_ had tainted him, _his_ mind, and more importantly it terrified him. He could hear the creatures claws as it _stroked his mind_, revelling in Tom's helplessness.

It terrified him more than the idea of losing his magic. More than the idea of simply being deemed irrelevant and inferior to the Wizarding world, to Tom Marvollo Riddle Jr. - Prime, more than even what had created Voldemort himself; his fear of death.

He had committed a crime against Magic, and he knew that soon, the Inquisitors would be after him, and he was most certainly not willing to let them destroy him.

Tob would most certainly not be trying to summon any demon's again, not ever, but he would most certainly learn and prepare so that he could kill the next _thing _that dared do what that demon did to him, for in the split second that his mind had touched the warped mind of Gorzoth, he had known this was but the first of many, he had let in the unspeakable, and now all would pay the price.

Tobias for his part had no desire to waste time rotting in a prison, or worse. So he took one last look at his Family home and set off, his wand motions to complete the portal, the swirling doorway an untraceable escape from the Inquisitors he knew were on his trail already. Stepping through, Tobias walked onto the streets of Beijing, disolving into the crowd of people even as back in England, half a world away, the crack of incoming Inquisitors sounded around Flint Manor.

Hadrian looked out across the sands of Egypt. Fawkes had disappeared several days ago, to where Albus had no idea, the majestic flame bird, the older man had explained, did what he wanted. He was a friend, not a pet, and while he was honored by the immortals companionship, he understood that the being had every right to go where he pleased when he pleased. The master and apprentice duo had arrived just yesterday, by way of international portkey. They had come to journey to the fabled Library of Thoth, where it was said the Egyptian god of Knowledge placed all of his knowledge. The information that they had gained from Gringotts leading them to where they currently stood. When they had appeared in the middle of the Sahara, Hadrian had immediately been grateful for cooling charms and Magic because, even the heat in the month of May was sweltering. They had spent the night in a portable tent, one that to Hadrian's relief was far more luxurious than what he had feared the old man would make him sleep in.

While they had set a multitude of wards around their lodging, the moving sands prevented anything permanent. still, it was most likely sufficient, and any who tried to pillage their tent would be faced with two very dangerous and very angry Magi.

Dumbledore and he had begun across the sand dunes after a short breakfast, making their way towards an old temple that Dumbledore suspected would have something of worth to them.

"So Hadrian, tell me, what do you know about gods?" Dumbledore began.

"They are more often than not, beings that have or represent some domain, they have very different rules of what they can do than mortal beings in creation, and are far more powerful than you or I." Hadrian said in short. Dumbledore hummed in agreement.

"Quite right. They are the executors of creation. Manifestations of Magic and a Domain. Their limits are only that of their domain. They are far from perfect, and nearly always extreme in their natures, but They also normally stay out of the affairs of mortals. Especially after the Cataclysm."

"Cataclysm? I have heard mention, but never was able to research more about it. What was it?"

"It was the last war of the gods." Dumbledore said grimly, "It is known as the closing of the realms. There are all manner of things in creation, and ones as powerful as Gods, tend to have power struggles proportionate to their own powers. Asgard, and several other Pantheons, banded together to fight the Demons. In the ancient times, Mortals were the chosen of the gods, we were the only ones that could cross any barrier, fight any entity, ignore the ancient laws that were set into motion before even the Eldest God existed.

That was their cause, their epic war, the gods, their children, all gathered to fight the demons, and some chaotic Elder Gods, to protect creation and order. In the end, even in victory, order was defeated. It was what I suppose would be called a success in the loosest meaning of the word, victory came at too steep a price.

Asgard, Olympus, they all closed their gates to mortals, that essential reminder of the connection between divine spark and man lost forever. It was in the Cataclysm that our allies were all split separated into their locations, those left behind on earth, their powers weakened. The elves to _Álfinheimr_, the Dwarves to their great underground city of _Dhemdarum_, the Ocean dwellers to _Atlantis_, the Aesir and Vanir to _Asgard_, and so on and so forth. Where once, all lived together, traded, mingled, grew and benefited, now all of us are separated into our own pocket dimensions. It was the first Statute of Secrecy." They continued on their way, trudging through the vast desert. The two of them contemplating a unified world.

Every day at dawn, they had been besieged by giant scorpions, thankfully, with their magic, it was an easy task for the two of them to destroy any and all aggressive scorpions, long before they were near enough to strike. After they took the time to train a bit.

"Professor - " Hadrian began after one such training sessions, he said lying in the shade of one of the palms that lined the small oasis that they had stopped at.

"Please Hadrian, call me Albus, we are after all not in school, and also are regularly placing our lives in each other's hands, besides, people who have done far less than you at a far greater age, call me the same, if anyone has earned the right to call me my name, it is you my boy." Albus said kindly.

"Well Albus, when I returned to Potter Manor, I had used my time there and researched our situation, and I think that I know how to escape the situation that we find ourselves in." Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows shot up into his hair.

"I also tried my hand at solutions, but had little luck." Dumbledore looked expectant. "Do not keep me in suspense Hadrian, do share."

"What if we were looking at this the wrong way? Our interaction with Gringotts showed me something. The Demon's aren't only anathema to Humans and Wizards, they are anathema to most every form of life. Speak not of the Elder Gods, and dimensional beasts that ravage all at the edge of chaos." Hadrian kicked at some sand as he walked.

"You told me that the part of the issue with these marks is this that we are not considered a large enough threat to have earned such an honor. Where Elven warriors train for centuries, and are_ dangerous _enough to be worthy of the title, Humans, even Wizards are considered 'lesser' beings. Perhaps it is time we showed the world that we are not limited by their expectations. What if we earn the right of Demon Slayer in the eyes of the other beings?" Albus' eyes widened in realization.

"You are suggesting more power, not less." Dumbledore stated cautiously.

"We both know that our limits are far from close, we have already far exceeded what the average wizard can even imagine, forget what they can achieve, at some level, I think it is not the amount of Power, but what you do with it. As I am now, if I was so inclined, not much could stop me from destroying most of Britain. I am very much aware that the same is true for you. But we don't do that, we are seekers of Knowledge, not Violence and Destruction."

"Hm perhaps you are right, it has been a long time since I have wielded my full capabilities. Perhaps it is time we start. Much of why I have never thought of this is simply because Power corrupts, and I am far from a perfect man. I do see your point, and while I agree that death is no longer an option to end this now that you and I are both afflicted, we will have to exercise extreme caution." Dumbledore found himself agreeing against his own better judgment. It had been long since he was young and inspired to explore and leave his comfort for action, something that he found very appealing about his new found companion.

Hadrian rolled, narrowly dodging the fatal barrage of arrows that Dumbledore had reflected back at Hadrian. Until he managed to draw blood from the old man, Dumbledore was only defending and returning fire. It was infuriating that after nearly two months of training with him, he could not even lay a scratch on the old man. Hadrian responded by slamming a charged Eldingr into the ground releasing a shockwave of electricity turning every single grain of sand in a kilometer circle around him into razor-sharp microscopic glass needles that he banished towards the professor.

Dumbledore was unfazed, as the blades of glass millimeters away from him went up in steam literally in a ripple starting from him even as he simultaneously transfigured the ground Hadrian was walking into quicksand to no effect. Hadrian had long since learned how to casually hold himself in place by use of enchanted boots, or foot sigils. He simply stood on the air firing spell after spell back at Dumbledore. The clouds had grown in the sky, a strange silvery sheen to them. Hadrian only had time to cast a material shield as suddenly, the clouds began raining down thousands of glass daggers at him. Realizing that he was toast. Hadrian surrendered, and even as the words left his lips, all of the glass disappeared, as did the damage to the landscape, quicksand, and the various mutilated animals and the like around them.

"That was very good Hadrian." Dumbledore said with pride.

"It didn't feel like it was very good." Hadrian mumbled back in exhaustion. That was their sixth duel of the day. Dumbledore had taken to randomly attacking him. His arrangement with Hadrian was that he would go on offense, if and only if Hadrian could draw blood. Hadrian had tried attacking him in his sleep only to wind up chained and bound when Albus cracked his eye open as he crossed what Hadrian suspected was a proximity ward.

The man was incredible, truly a Legend. One bound and shrouded by the limits of society, something that Hadrian found slightly off putting. That a man like Dumbledore was kept from even more greatness because of the fears of undriven, uninspired people.

It had been a long six days of walking through endless desert. Apparently. The only way they could progress through the pocket dimension was walking. If they tried to fly, or even run, they would find themselves back to where they had begun. But with patience and perseverance, they had finally reached their destination the Fabled Library of Thoth.

The Temple complex was massive. A truly monumental temple. It looked like a traditional Egyptian temple complex, white smooth stone, marble and basalt, and unlike most of the Egyptinan temples, this entire one screamed _divine magic._

The painting and the limestone structure showed the truly incredible Hieroglyphic script that lined every surface, the glyphs moved on their own, written in magic, the very essence of their existence. It had been a pleasant surprise when Hadrian and Dumbledore had found that the information that the Goblins had shared had infact provided them with enough information to track down the location from a scroll on the Library of Thoth that Salzaar had had. Apparently the man had journeyed here in his youth, and here he had found the lost coordinates for the Naga civilizations. He had been kind enough to provide some notes on where to find the entrance to the Dimension of Passage, also known in Hadrian's words as, 'The long walk through sandy hell'.

The two approached the Temple gate. Dumbledore and Hadrian both having shed their normal battle robes after it was apparent that something in the Dimension of Passage burned through the spells after merely 10 minutes. They were both dressed in nearly sheer white Egyptian cotton robes.

"I have a feeling we have one more test before we are granted entry into the Library of Thoth." Dumbledore said quietly. "Be on guard." Hadrian nodded in agreement. Pondering what the final challenge might be.

/Halt seekers./ standing in front of them stood a Sphinx. This was not the Roman or Turkish kind. Bitter, and in what must be some Divine Comedy, female. No this Sphinx was Egyptian. Thought by most Wizards extinct.

/Hail greatest of the Sphinx/ Hadrian said in Ancient Egyptian

/ Hail, answer this seeker and enter/

/Possessed but never seen, what is shown but never tangible, what is the reason for life, and what is lost in death, what is always increasing but always lost in the end as well. /

/_Knowledge_/

/Welcome _student._/

Hadrian stood in front of the library. He could feel the eldritch and Ancient Magics this place contained flowing through him. Glancing at Dumbledore, Hadrian hesitantly took a step forward.

"Shall we move forward Albus?" The headmaster nodded his head, moving forward through the massive doorway to the Egyptian Temple. Hadrian had seen only a few libraries, but they all were dwarfed by the size of the library he currently stood in front of.

He felt the lure, the knowledge that every question he had ever had, was answered in the books in front of him, if he could only open one…

"Hadrian!' Albus' voice cracked like a whip jarring him back into his body. Hadrian's hand froze inches away from a scroll that lay discarded on the table that the two had passed.

"Sorry." Hadrian murmured. "I don't quite know what came over me just then."

"I quite understand my boy." Albus got a grave look on his face. "This place would be a temptation to any man interested in learning, to you, it is the most temptation I am sure you have felt in a while." Hadrian agreed. This was torture, suddenly his eyes focused on the library, there were dozens of men, in various apparells.

Every one read like they were a man starved. Their bodies gaunt, but more severely, their eyes hollow. They were far from what they must have been to gain access to this place, but clearly they had not held the will and resolve to resist the lure of infinite knowledge, and their will to leave with whatever knowledge they sought broken by their desire to _KNOW._

Resolve hardening his mind, Hadrian walked bast the men and women who begged him to read to them, their eyes having been clawed out by hand if their bloody fingers were any hint.

'It does seem that curiosity kills the cat.'

'Albus. No.'

'What are we looking for?'

'Many things.'

'Hadrian.' Albus's voice was firm, 'do not tempt fate, my friend.'

'We need to find a way to Álfinheimr.'

'That is a far easier question to answer then the question of _what _in the Seven Hells is happening everywhere and why." Dumbledore's mental voice carried with it an urgency and fear.

'We both know something has gone terribly wrong.'

'Fine.'

'You know what you must ask. I, on the other hand, have a different question.'

'Which is?'

'The Location of the other two Hallows. I have given your idea some thought. I think you are right my friend, the time for playing nice is over. We need to play to win or accept the fate that will be all of humanity. Insanity, Death, and Slavery.'

'I choose option one'. Hadrian snarked

'We both do my friend.'

||Welcome Mortals.|| In front of them on a throne made of papyrus sat a man with the head of an Ibis. Thoth himself. Egyptian God of Knowledge. Thoth's voice sounded like it was in every language at the same time. Had Hadrian and Dumbeldore not read in Salzaars journal this very thing, they would have been overwhelmed by the millions of ways that Thoth simultaneously communicated with them.

"Greetings oh Great Thoth."

||What do you seek?||

"What has happened to the veil that separates worlds?"

||You do not know then Hadrian Potter… How interesting, _you are after all the reason for the rip in the first place_.|| A scroll appeared in Hadrian's hand, he did not bother looking at it. || And for you Albus Dumbledore?||

"I want the knowledge of the other Deathly Hallows and their location." Dumbledore said firmly. Thoth seemed surprised by Dumbledore's request, the 18-foot god stepped down from his throne, shrinking to a normal size in an instance.

||Ah, what a peculiar thing, visited by the two mortals that have all nine realms in a buzz, the ones who killed the Lord of the Fifth Circle Gorzoth. It shall be yours.|| Thoth looked at them interest plain on his face.

||Do you wish to study here with me Mortals, you would be safe from harm, from demons, from desire?|| Thoth seemed genuine enough, but Hadrian had no desire to attempt to press his luck.

||I suppose not then Mortals. I have two _gifts_ for you, consider it a thank you for disposing of the Demon, and livening things up after so many _dull_ eons." In Dumbledore's hands lay a tome, ancient for sure. "And as for the second," neither of them even felt anything change as the world twisted into an image of Elves, _actual Elves_ slaying the demons in what could only be defined as a slaughter. They got the message, their true goal was to find Álfheimr.

"Thank you, Lord Thoth." Dumbledore and Hadrian both bowed and made their way out of the gods oppressive presence. Both sweating profusely, the desire to _learn_, something the two had always loved, burning through them, as unquenchable as the hottest fires of lust. The words of Salazar Slytherin repeating in both of their heads.

_** "Never have I regretted more the burden of choice than when I chose to fulfill my life's dream at the cost of limitless Knowledge."**_

Albus and Hadrian found themselves back in Cairo. The temple of Thoth nowhere in sight, the god having sent them back to where their quest began, the answers they held in their hands the only sign they had even left Cairo in the first place.

"Shall we check in to a hotel? I for one needs a bath and a good meal." Dumbledore said brightly.

"Why not, we have yet to open the answers to our questions, nor that tome that the Lord of Knowledge gave us. Some recuperation and relaxation might indeed be in order, magic knows when we will get the chance again," Hadrian agreed tiredly.

A/N: Hello, So few things. This chapter is the last of the "Introductory chapters" I would say. While some of you like big chapters, others don't, so I have just been focusing on writing and breaking when I hit a place where that works. Some will be longer, others less so, I cant promise 40k word chapters, but at least 6K+.

I hope that the trajectory of the story is one that you guys like because truly as I think you will notice as soon as the next chapter, there are a lot of different places, beings, creatures, some seem contradictory all existing at the same time, some of it will be explained most of it won't.

That said, The Potters and the "Wizarding World" will be _less_ relevant not _more _relevant going forward for the foreseeable future. We will get scenes where we get to follow a character or two, but a large part of me likes the idea of not knowing what is going on until Hadrian and Albus return.

Also: To the kind reviewer who said that Hadrian and Harry have no relation. Yes. You are right. I, however, was a classics student in college, and feel like the Potters having a Roman name is ok. Also - it connects nicely to Hadrian's elven name, so I personally don't mind it at all.

I read every review, and I appreciate them all. Thanks for reading and journeying with me.


	6. Du'at (7624)

**6\. Du'at - Land of the Dead (7451)**

**Cairo **

Albus and Hadrian sat staring at the results of their near tangle with death. The Temple of Thoth had been a challenge for them both. Both had given up the chance to know anything and everything, all for the two answers that they had requested. Both were scholars first and foremost, and they knew deep inside, that it would always remain a what if. That they both had mused was the danger of it all, what is infinite knowledge when there is no life to celebrate that mastery?

Albus had asked for the locations of the Hallows, and he had gotten them;

Elder Wand - In the possession of Albus Dumbledore, _Midgard_

The Resurrection Stone - In the possession of Osiris,_ Du'at_

The Cloak of Invisibility - In the Possession of Vlad Dracula, _the Realm of Eternal Night_

The answer to Hadrian's question had been far more alarming.

When the Demon had penetrated the Dimensional Veil in its true form, it had poked a hole in the vacuum-sealed biome of their dimension. This was no possession, Tom had done the one thing that every pure-blooded Darklord for the last 500 years had known was above his right, he tore the dimensional wall to suit his needs. Summoned a flesh and blood Demon to him.

Very soon this was going to be a very large problem for everyone. In killing Gorzoth, Hadrian and Albus had marked themselves as able to deal with such a threat, marking their dimension a threat to the Demons. A tear in what was an otherwise seamless, impenetrable bubble that protected their world from every other anathematic being interested in coming through, and truthfully, none were interested, until now. The summoning of Gorzoth meant that the Demon's knew it was possible, and that there was sport to be had on Midgard. They would try to get in, and they would likely succeed.

There was a benefit to this popping of the Dimensional Veil, it meant that the magic of Midgard in that singular moment got flooded since the veil was established, it had suffocated the magic, and until now those on Midgard had lived _survived _the change. The Elves, beings that were suffused with magic, those like them either fled, or hibernated, or changed, none were good options. But now, the magic was changing, no longer quaint, small, underfed, requiring huge reserves of magic to fuel truly legendary acts of magic like before. Magic was waking up. Remembering what it once was, before the 'Sundering' before it was directed and confined, made to expend itself hiding. Things long forgotten would be waking, and in no uncertain words would the mortals be unprepared.

Hadrian's need for the Elves, it was doubly important; for his own growth, and for the safety of all of earth's inhabitants. Opening communication with the most elite demon slayers in existence was a worthy enough endeavor. Still, Toth's vision, it reinforced the need to improve that both of them had already felt growing in them. They were not going to walk to their deaths without a fight.  
Hadrian and Albus had decided that if they wanted to go to Álfheimr, the first thing to do would be to get the Resurrection Stone. This meant finding the entrance to the Du'at, so they were going to go to the one place that they were confident that they could find answers; the tombs of the pharaohs in the Valley of the Kings.

Albus stood in front of the wall of hieroglyphs pensively, he had had a decade of his youth dedicated to the lost and buried mysteries of Magic. He like Hadrian had spent time seeking what was forgotten. But Hadrian had taken to the Anathema and the Arcane like no one he had ever seen. He could not understand it. Hadrian was seemingly the same as any other wizard, a powerful and knowledgeable one, but something about him was bent towards these wild uses of Magic. Coupling that with the Potter Memoriastum, which made up for the lack of experience he had due to his age. Currently, his young protege was using a form of language magic that Albus was unfamiliar with.

"Care to explain what you are doing?"

"I am attempting to understand what the Sorcerers of Egypt wrote in the Amduat, to figure out how to open the gateway to Du'at."

"And what is the Amduat?"

"It is roughly translated to the 'Text of the Hidden Chamber Which is in the Underworld'" Hadrian responded. "I had received the memories of the script from my ancestor Gravius Potter, he was an Egyptologist before it was _trendy_." He gestured to a particular part of the wall, "These hieroglyphs are explaining far more than the Sun God Ra's journey." Hadrian explained. "The journey of Ra is daily a twelve hour one, one in which every hour marks a point in the journey of Ra. In hour 1 the sun god of the Egyptians enters the western horizon (akhet) which is a transition between day and night."

"So the Sunset," Albus provided hesitantly, these were things that he had always left to more _specialized_ members of the teams he had been a part of.

"Yes, see here, in hours 2 and 3, Ra passes through an abundant watery world called 'Wernes' and the 'Waters of Osiris'. I think it is a type of portal, but more importantly a hint on how to make the journey." Hadrian said pensively. "In hour 4 Ra reaches the _difficult_ sandy realm of Sokar, the underworld hawk deity, where he encounters dark zig zag pathways which he has to negotiate, being dragged on a snake-boat."

"So Ra travels at dusk through the watery passage of Wernes, and into the sandy realm of Seker, who if my memory of the Book of the Dead is correct, is a god of death, as well." Albus replied. Hadrian hums in affirmation.

"In hour 5 he comes to the tomb of Osiris which is an enclosure beneath which is hidden a lake of fire. The tomb is covered by a pyramid-like mound, on top of which Isis and Nephthys have alighted in the form of two birds of prey." Hadrian continued. "Most likely guardians to the Tomb of Osiris."

"In the sixth hour the most significant event in the underworld occurs. The ba (or soul) of Ra unites with his own body, or alternatively with the ba of Osiris within the circle formed by the Mehen serpent. This is the point at which the sun begins its regeneration, or perhaps more relevantly to us, its resurrection." Albus nodded, his brows furrowed together, as he used his occlumency to brush the cobwebs off his memories on his study of Egyptian Mythology.

"It is a moment of great significance, but also the journey is one fraught with danger from here on out, as beyond it in hour 7 the adversary Apep, also known as the mythical chaos serpent Apophis, lies in wait and has to be subdued by the magic of Isis, and the strength of Set assisted by Serqet. Once this has been done the sun god opens the doors of the tomb in hour 8 and then leaves the sandy island of Sokar by rowing vigorously back into the waters in hour 9. In hour 10 the regeneration process continues through immersion in the waters until hour 11, when the god's eyes (a symbol for his health and well being) are fully regenerated. In hour 12 he enters the eastern horizon ready to rise again as the new day's sun."

"If I am reading this right. We need to follow the God Ra into the underworld. First going to the realm of the god Sokar, or Seker as you said, journeying to the Tomb of Osiris, find the Resurrection Stone, and then escape past the Devouring Serpent Apep to return to the world of the living. The only way out of the Egyptian underworld is with Ra." Hadrian said grimly.

"Twelve hours in the_ Realm of the Dead_, in the domain of Egypt's most powerful gods. At least ours will be a short journey to the afterlife." Albus quipped. Hadrian rolled his eyes at the snarky response he got.

"Now let's get out of here." Hadrian, as much as he might enjoy studying lost magic, and routes to the afterlife was growing tense from the sheer magical energy floating around the tomb.

"I was hoping you would say that." Albus agreed shivering, there was something terrifying about Egyptian tombs.

Hadrian and Albus spent the next several days - for indeed what was a few days in the face of a nearly impossible _mythic_ journey to the underworld to claim an equally mythic artifact of unfathomable power. Gathering resources and knowledge, Hadrian and Dumbledore both took the time to cast and master the spells that allowed, based on your own strength for you to cast and prepare spells a certain number of times per day - so that in the heat of battle spells far beyond your normal limit could be cast instantaneously with a simple activation.

Additionally, they procured a series of what could only be described as bribes. For the gods that they were likely to encounter, any of even the weakest could end their quest before it truly even begot underway. This was after all the danger of leaving the right of Mortals and playing in the sandbox of beings 'above your paygrade' so to speak. But between Hadrian and Albus, they did represent a fair amount of power, skill, knowledge and intellect. Even so, it was after only eight days of preparation that they found themselves as ready as they would be to go forward with their plan, finding themselves standing at the waterfront, looking down into its glowing waters.

"Shall we my young friend?" Hadrian's response was a curt nod even as he and Albus plunged into the water swimming down even as the sun matched their very movement. They swam downwards, at the body of water called Wernes by the ancient references that they could find. The two swam and swam, until suddenly they felt themselves urged on, far too fast to be natural. Sucked through a vortex of dark void like water, every direction as foreign as the last, their lungs burning with oxygen deprivation as their bubblehead charms failed until suddenly, Hadrian and Dumbledore saw light approaching. With a heave, both burst through the water and collapsed on the sandy beach of what they hoped to be Seket's domain. With a flick of his hand, Dumbledore had dried both of their robes. Their well-kept appearance restored.

'So,' Hadrian began accessing their telepathic link, 'what do you think Seket will be like?'

'I dearly hope we do not find out.' Albus replied grimly even as the two of them made haste to match the sun's progress evenly. Too far ahead or behind would spell disaster for them. They noticed a wall of what seemed to be churning sand. Cautiously they approached it, not daring to touch it in fear of setting off a trap.

'So, any ideas?' Hadrian said cautiously. They had found no mention of such an obstacle in the Amduat or any of the other texts that spoke of the Egyptian land of the Dead.

'Perhaps we should knock?' Albus replied wryly. Seeing no other choice, Hadrian pulsed his Magic several times, to their surprise and pleasure, the wall immediately stopped churning, and then it exploded. The sand raging all around them, a small circle around the two staved off by the combined power of Hadrian and Albus.

What business do Thunder and Death have here in the land of the undead? Seket's voice echoed from all around them.

{We are seeking the residence of Lord Osiris,} Dumbledore spoke in the true tongue. They were surrounded by endless dunes of sand, the storm raging on around them, obscuring the tracks that they had trekked through the sand on their journey. They had no hope of finding the oasis again. The sun was moving steadily overhead, their time was running short.

I see, _foreigners_, tread carefully, Egypt is not for the weak, and its afterlife is even less so. With a pulse the raging storm _burst_, leaving a strange silence and calmness in its wake.

'He thought you were a death god?' Hadrian said surprised.

'It could be due to my possession of the Elder Wand, and your possession of Eldingr. Divine artifacts are rare anyway, mortals having them even rarer. We know little about how they affect our magic and interact with how other beings view us. '

'Still pretty terrible security'

'Do _not jinx us.' _

The two carried onwards, seeing a massive plateau, one that had what looked like an entranceway to a colossal temple. The entrance to the Underworld.

The two men carried on, deeper and deeper into the underworld, all manner of spirits floated here and there, they were fortunate, the Egyptian gods had their hands full with the dead - the magicians of Egypt always trying to escape their fate requiring a far closer look than what they warranted.

They saw the black waters of the Nile, its waters dark as ink, the dead boarding a boat of reeds and riding it onto a lake of fire.

'Soulfyre,' Albus says grimly. 'It would burn away our very existence in an instant. I guess a boat is our only option.' They snuck into line and boarded the boat, allowing it to fill with the empty souls who would be judged by Osiris in his Temple.

As the boat cast off and made its way to the center of the lake, at the center of the fifth cavern, where the raised temple, and hopefully Resurrection stone lay waiting for them. What made the Egyptian underworld so unsettling was without a doubt the fact that it was entirely composed of Basalt and in the series of underground caves. It was easy to see with the sun burning through the underworlds' false sky, wherever the light touched, the dead were resurrected to enjoy a single hour of life per day as Ra traveled through the cavern they inhabited. The center of the cavern had a massive Egyptian pyramid made of black basalt, capped by gold which shone so brightly it was nearly blinding due to its proximity to the sun. They stepped off. The guards eyes passed over them, seemingly ignoring of their existence.

'Where do you think that the Resurrection Stone will be?' Hadrian asked mentally.

'My best guess would be at the point of Ra's resurrection.' Albus responded.

'So we go forward then.'

'Quite.' The two journeyed deeper into the underworld, passing by khers, Souls from the Egyptian underworld. Hadrian could feel how this place was affecting him. How it was sapping his strength, this was the full power of dissolution, its power, the power of Death. Albus, on the other hand, felt far more power than he had felt in his life, His magic singing with the resonance of the Death Magic that surrounded and made up Duat.

The pair approached the pyramid, the reed boat, and ferryman that had taken them this far, dropping them off and returning across the lake of soulfyre. The pyramid was glowing powerful and dark gold from up close, Hadrian noticed immediately as he felt the power of the ever-present Death magic touch his own, that the structure itself was the center of the underworld. The true Nexus of Death magic.

Striding forward, the two stood before the majestic and terrible pyramid. Its golden caps reflection of the soulfyre illuminating the entire island. standing in Infront of the pyramid, they looked up to see the top glowing a blinding orange, Ra it seems had arrived at the tomb of Osiris. The ball of fire parked itself on the point of the pyramid, and the entire structure was flooded with magic.  
'Come on, we don't want to be late now.' Hadrian said as he took off towards the main entrance of the pyramid. The waited For Ra to descend into the top of the glowing pyramid, even as by the door, a portal folded into existence and they two entered the Tomb of Osiris, the two guards not paying them any mind.

Hadrian and Albus rushed into the pyramid, and it appeared that they were standing on a single floating block of stone in the middle of the void, there was no sign of any pyramid, nor any trace of the door they had just entered. They could see the light of Ra as it journeyed through the void seeking out Osiris' tomb. With a flick of Albus' wand, the rock that they were standing on, shot after the speeding ball of fire. Through the darkness, they could see the sheen of massive scales. Each shining sparkling scale was the size of ten men and there were _thousands_ making up what appeared to be a wall. Dumbledore and Hadrian had little choice in their captivation. They followed close as they could to the Ba of Ra as it navigated its way through what seemed to be the unending churning infinity of the Mehen serpent.

The duo saw what appeared to be an inverted pyramid, floating in the center of the coils of the Mehen Serpent. The true tomb of Osiris. Flying their makeshift craft up to the tomb, Hadrian and Dumbledore looked down just as the Ba of Ra was rejoined with his body. The entire void previously only illuminated by Ra's brilliance was plunged into a darkness that Hadrian and Albus knew they could not survive. The nimbus of light that each had summoned instantly, fighting valiantly against the all-consuming darkness.

A pulse went through the void just as an explosion of light that emanated from the Body of Ra. Restoring light to the otherwise dark oblivion of the void they stood in, Ra stood.

What was above a simple sun, and later a ball of flame, had now become, the effulgent form of Ra himself, the man's human form would fool no-one, it screamed divinity. Ra's skin was a glowing golden, a visible aura, casually caressed his form, his face flickering from falcon to humans, but most noticeably, his eyes were burning balls of fire. Ra could burn out of existence a hundred Gorzoths. Hadrian and Dumbledore blinked. In the millisecond it must have taken for them to blink, they found themselves standing at the foot of the throne of a man who could only be Osiris. His green skin and white robes taking nothing away from his regality, the light of Ra was it seems his own.

Welcome. Osiris' voice echoed in their minds, the sounds of a million deaths, the sound of a million births his voice made no sounds but made them all. Both Hadrian and Albus bowed deeply, this was a true lord of his domain. Hadrian stepped forward.

"Homage to thee, O Osiris, the Lord of Eternity, the king of the gods, thou who hast many names, whose forms of coming into being are holy, whose attributes are hidden in the temples, whose Double is most august. Thou art the Chief of Tettu, the Great One who dwelleth in Sekhem, the lord to whom praises are offered in the name of Athi, the Chief of the divine food in Annu, and the lord who is commemorated in the Hall of two-fold Right and Truth. Thou art the Hidden Soul, the lord of Qereret, the Holy one in the city of the White Wall, the Soul of Ra, and thou art of his own body. Thou art he who is greatly feared in Shas-hetep, the lord of eternity, the Chief of Abydos, thy seat extendeth into the land of holiness, and thy name is firmly established in the mouth of mankind. Thou art the substance of which were made the two lands, thou art Tem, the divine food of the doubles, thou art the chief of the company of the gods, thou art the operative and beneficent Spirit among the spirits, thou drawest thy waters from the abyss of heaven, thou bringeth along the north wind at eventide and air for thy nostrils to the satisfaction of thy heart. Thy heart germinateth, thou producest the light for divine food, the height of heaven and the starry gods obey thee, thou openest the great pylons of heaven, and thou art he unto whom praises are sung in the southern heaven, and to whom adorations are performed in the northern heaven." Hadrian finished his recitation of the ode to Osiris.

It pleases me that you have understood me. It has been some time since I have seen one who is not mine, and they have greeted me in such a manner.

We are honored, Lord Osiris. We are not gods, however. Albus said hesitantly. Osiris looked critically at the two.

Ah, the chosen of the Fair Lady, and the young Storm Lord. Greetings. You have come from far to do your Lady's will, I shall not stop you. Welcome to Egypt, though it might seem to have fallen into mystery, there is still much here beyond what is obvious. The god's pause threw both Hadrian and Dumbledore off their thought process. The god seemed to cock his double crowned head as if listening to someone from far away. Look away Dumbledore and Hadrian shared look before averting their eyes.

The room was filled with light so harsh and bright that it would have surely blinded them, and when their sight cleared, in front of them stood a woman. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman that either had ever seen in their lives. Their Magic sung in her presence.

'Albus?'

'Yes Hadrian?'

'Is that...?'

'Isis. One of the Arcane Goddesses of Magic.' Both Master and Apprentice bowed deeply.

Greetings, It has been a long time since I have beheld one of my grandnephews. You both have come here at the behest of the Fair Lady have you not? Her voice felt like the first moment they had held their wands, warmth, magic, _power. Unbelievable_ power, Isis was the illusion present in Magic, she was her domain made real.

We have. Replied Dumbledore in utter reverence at the being in front of him.

Oh, mistress of magic, we have come for the Stone of Resurrection Hadrian added.

What is this? Slayers of Gorzoth of the Fifth Circle. Osiris' Eyes widened at the implication. _Demons slain by mortals. Well, almost mortals. But the Veil. _Osiris suddenly was dangerously interested in the two mortals who had made the legendary journey to come to seek his audience.

It has been sundered. Dumbledore and Hadrian had to stop from flinching at the look of rage that appeared on Isis' and Osiris' faces.

Two thousand years of suffocation for the protection of our realm, and a mortal _sunders_ what took the lives of my ancestors to create! Osiris' body glowed, his anger palpable. Harry and Dumbledore both felt the pressure on them as the god's rage threatened to burn them out of existence, suddenly peetering off as a much larger terrifying presence could be felt by Hadrian and Albus. _Apophis. A Chaos god._

I would have very much liked to talk with you further Master of Nyx and Young Lightning Lord, it seems however we are both immediately and in the long run, out of time. Osiris pulled the glittering green jewel out of its place hanging in the center of his neck. The chain-breaking from both ends, leaving only a bit attached to his chest armor.

Should you wish to escape the Underworld, now would be the time, Ra has reached the 8th Cavern of Duat, and I can take you as far as the entrance to the 9th cavern of Duat. To the domain of the Nu. You will have to cross through the cavern, surviving should you be so able, but should you persevere, you will return to the land of the living along with Ra. The light of Ra it will allow the dead to join you in battle, they will fight to aide you, but if you stray out of his light, you will be alone against the armies of the malevolent dead. All will seek the power of the stone of Resurrection, be wary, until you carry it out of the underworld, it will not bend to your will. Isis said seriously, her wings glittering into existence.

Hadrian and Dumbledore nodded their heads, stepping closer to the scantily clad goddess of Magic at her gesture. Her wings wrapped around the two of them and the Tomb of Osiris dissolved into nothingness.

The entrance to the realm of Nu was surprising, a simple hole in the ground. It would be perhaps like the void in the tomb of Osiris, a churning depth of the oceanic void, a place where little to no fire could ever find itself. The two waited at the entrance, only the Fiery power of Ra could help them survive in the depths of the Nu.  
'Tell me Hadrian, I was under the impression that Nu was a benevolent deity, your knowledge of Egyptology is without a doubt more complete than my own.' Hadrian mentally scoffed.

'Nu is both Chaos and Order. You are aware of how gods are subject to their believers belief in their nature correct?' at Dumbledore's mental humm of agreement, Hadrian carried on. 'In the late period of Egyptian history, the foreign powers that controlled Egypt, twisted the portrayal of Nu into a purely chaotic form, it can prove good or bad for us, reflecting the chaos in Egypt itself.' I can assure you Nu is no friend of Ra's. We will very surely be at his whim. Neither the powers of Death, nor lightning will aid us much while we are there, the best we can hope for is to sneak past him without encountering him.'

'Agreed, we must tread carefully.' Albus agreed. As the arms of the Sun Gods' brilliance lit up the entrance to Nun, the two wizards, Leaped into the churning watery abyss. Bubblehead, and warming charms prevented them from dying of shock, as they crept through the watery void of Nun. All manner of sea monsters scoured the waters, but Hadrian and Albus moved like shadows. They finally made their way to the Temple of Nu, where the doorway was supposedly located. The two crept into the submerged temple, and saw to their elation, that Nu was asleep. Seeing their chance, the two snuck past the watery god and through to the next cavern.

Dashing through the brilliantly glowing arch behind the bed of Nu, the two found themselves in the tenth chamber. The chamber that had only been described as holding 'Groaning goddesses with blood-dripping axes' Once again, Ra was overhead, and to their joy, Hadrian and Dumbledore watched as the ground and ash formed into men, warriors, gold armor flowing onto their bodies. Hadrian and Albus realized how fast the sun moved as the men behind them crumbled to dust as the shadow of a gnarled tree obscured the life giving properties of Ra from the ba of the warriors attempting to aid them through the next and last caves.

Hadrian leaped onto Dumbledore's transfigured Chariot, even as two horses flowed out of the ground to carry them forward. With a flick of his wrist, Eldingr was in his hand. The size of the army charging forward in Ra's light was overwhelming. Thousands of warriors, a sea of men and women, armed and ready to kill flowed around their chariot. They crossed into the tenth chamber and entered into the area of Duat that was far more perilous than anything that they had seen thus far.

Rushing forward, the ground thundering under their chariot wheels and the feet of their rather large army of undead, Hadrian and Albus saw something horrifying. As Ra battled Apep, bolts of fire and the light flickering through the cavern, swaths of their army were slain instantly by the shadow of Apep's form as it neared Ra's chariot. It seemed that when Isis said that light was needed to maintain their forms, she was not exaggerating in the least. If they were hit by even a glancing bolt, nothing would save them from instant annihilation. Alternatively, the moment a large enough shadow fell on their army, their undead escort would crumble in the wind within seconds, returning to the dust that they were. Most significantly, Albus and Hadrian would be alone in the terrifying abyss of the Egyptian underworld, for the darkness of Ra's absence, was so complete it appeared solid, void-like.

Their attention was brought back to what lay in front of them as they saw a swarth of _monsters, _part Hippopotamus, part lion, and part Crocodile, attack their men by the dozens. The monstrosities barreled through the swarm of undead hacking away at them, making a beeline towards Albus and Hadrian, Albus was holding the reigns and immediately handed them to Hadrian, who urged them onwards.

Brow furrowed, a rainbow of colors flew from Albus' wand, walls of glass, blasts of fire, shredding his opponents mercilessly. They had yet to encounter any of the so-called cavern gods yet, and Albus was sure that it would be much more difficult when they did. Albus turned the sand around the latest grotesque chimeras into a macabre sea of boiling glass, the sounds of the monsters shrieking filled the air as their small army was suddenly waist-deep in liquid boiling glass.

Overhead, Ra and Atep's fight was captivating, Ra fired lances of burning light through the air, appearing to have a thousand hands with the speed that he threw his tongues of the solar fire at the colossal chaos snake. The snake for its part churned, filling the false sky with its size and churning like rolling clouds of evil.

Do you believe you can escape your fate? the voice echoed in their minds. They had stumbled upon one of the goddesses it seemed. Hadrian stared at her in shock. She burst from a funnel of sand. Macabre in appearance, both Wizards felt the jolt of terror flit down their spine at her cruel visage.

Standing seven feet tall, the goddess towered over the two, but she was not the illustrious and hauntingly beautiful visage of Isis, or indeed the Fair Lady. She was a goddess who had been driven mad from starvation. One who had lost all but a shadow of _what and who_ she previously was. Her face was that of a lioness, once proud, now all the more haunting in its gauntness, her body starved, and uncared for, her hair long and matted, her eyes a sickly yellow, black corruption cracking through them.

Not even bothering to speak with her, the two wizards began their assault. Dumbledore, flicking his wand, a clear wall of glass intercepting the angry ax wielding goddess's first throw, even while Hadrian summoned a bolt of lightning which he flung at the forgotten goddess.

She shrieked as the lightning arced into her newly summoned ax, flowing through her, and driving her back. Even as the two Wizards transfigured all of the glass into daggers of glass and flung it at the dazed goddess. Golden sand poured from her wounds, a sure sign of how far lost she was, as no divine or ascended being bled anything other than liquid _ichor, _until as they slowly faded into obscurity, their ichor hardened into sand, and then finally solid gold. It was likely that the unnamed goddess would not be reforming this time.

She dissolved even as, Hadrian flicked his wand and summoned the ax that she had left, letting it float in the transfigured chariot, even as the two rushed to catch up with Ra, who in the time of their battle, nearly left them in shadow. Sprinting towards the horizon, Hadrian and Albus both felt a chill of anxiety at the thought of trying to spend 12 hours waiting for Ra's return, blind and deaf, and at the whims of the terrors of the underworld, with the kings ransom they currently held in their position.

They raced, the sandy dunes giving way to cliffs, even as the chariot soon found itself alone, their entourage swallowed whole by the abyss that followed closely at their heels. The two finally saw the portal, and could feel the sun 'setting' Ra was already in the 11th chamber, and if they didn't hurry, he, and their chance to leave the land of the dead would be gone.

Albus and Hadrian crossed the portal, appearing in the 11th chamber, thankfully the smallest, but perhaps the most deadly. For in it lied Ammit, The Swallower of Souls. Ra was proving victorious over Atep the great snake was in shreds, his blood raining down on the ground of the last cavern-like boiling poison, great swaths of the surprisingly green land instantly turned to infertile desert. Hadrian supposed it made sense that the chamber closest to the world of the living would be the one most filled with life.

The Nile flowed in front of them.

'Would you care for a boat ride' Albus said with mirth. Hadrian simply chuckled and acquiesced, watching in awe, as the transfiguration master flicked his wand, and the reeds growing along the Nile were uprooted, dried and then formed a rather large boat. Gingerly stepping on to his mentor's creation, Hadrian, offered a hand to his elderly friend, it would not due to be swept away by the Nile, Hadrian had read of what _primordial_ rivers could do, and would not wish that on anyone, least of all Albus.

The two floated rapidly down the river, spotting with no small amount of awe, the beast that was Ammit. Even the glance they had both took of him was enough for them to realize the soundness of the existence of the Unspeakable laws. The memory itself of this would hold power far beyond what any of them would want to give, the beast itself could likely wreak far more harm than even Atep, Atep was a force of nature, what was a soul to it? Ammit on the other hand was the devourer of souls.

The two Wizards flitted along the Nile, the sun God's chariot setting into the Nile, a flicker in reality as the separation between worlds was unzipped, and the Sungod, and the two Wizards, slipped back into the _real_ world. One of the few to ever have crossed the barriers that separate the living and the dead.

_**Meanwhile at Hogwarts**_

Interim Headmistress Minerva McGonnagal sat in her office, no one had been able to get into the Headmaster's tower since Albus' departure, and no one wanted to try too hard. No one had heard a single word from Dumbledore since he and the eldest Potter had left on whatever adventure they were off on. This however made things quite complicated for her, as accordingly she had been made the acting Headmistress, and it was now 45 days before the start of term, and no one knew when, or if, the _Hogwart's_ headmaster would be back.

There were some strange occurrences since the end of the last school year, the obliviators had been working overtime, something was happening, something unprecedented. Every year, on student's eleventh birthdays, they would receive their Hogwarts letter. This was because, it was only on or after their eleventh birthday that magical cores could be detected. The castles own magical enchantments were the ones that compiled the lists of students and sent out the letters. Truthfully, none of the staff had any involvement in the process, except for the Headmaster.

The Ministry of Magic, had long since used this as a form of census, as along with their letter, the castle generated a number, the Darles Magical scale it was called, and it recorded the Magical Strength of the students in the Hogwarts ledger. Now Albus Dumbledore had always taken care of this extremely discreetly, giving the ministry only the average DMS for an entire year, never sharing such private information with the Ministry.

While, it was indeed Minerva's first year taking over Headmaster Dumbledore's duties, she was _uninformed _of his_ discretion _with the ministry reports, she still had the sense to ask the portraits, who collectively shared the fact that they too had always been discreet with what they put the ministry reports.

But she was baffled by the reports she was receiving. On average, the normal first-year class clocked in at 20-30 MP, squibs being 10 and below, seventh years perhaps being 90-100, adult wizards being 120-150, and someone like Albus Dumbledore or Voldemort being above 500. Truthfully the scale stopped at 500, and no one really cared about what happened after 500 because it happened so infrequently.

This year however the average first-year class was scored at 50. An event that had not happened since the 1100's if Minerva's research had been correct. And that could have been explained away by the fact that the class of 1104 had only a dozen students, all of whom were apprentices to one of the founders.

Additionally the average first-year class was 50. This year however, the average first-year class was over 75 students, something that had never happened. And the shocking thing was that these new students were the first batch of first-years who were born _after_ the defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Minerva knew that the castle was equipped to house as many students as were interested in coming, in fact, she had been shocked to learn that the current castle was less than 10% of Hogwarts in its totality. With the ability to move walls, it was little trouble for the castle to close entire wings on the basis of demand.

Something had begun to change with the death of Voldemort, and since last year, with the _unspeakable_ event that the school had borne witness to, something had changed with magic itself, something that she was not sure if anyone was prepared to deal with.

Sighing at the unprecedented amount of paperwork she had to fill out for the Ministry, and what she was sure was going to be a full-on inquiry into the reasons for this sudden shift, Minerva McGonagal wished for the thousandth time, that Albus would come back and deal with these problems himself.

_**In the Department of Mysteries**_

Algernon Croaker and Regulus Black stood over the tome that held the DMS of every single ministry employee. Everyone who entered the Ministry handed their wands over to the ministry check-in desk and after running a test, which seemed like a simple identity check, the Ministry worker then placed the slip in a cubby, from where the information was immediately forwarded to the book that the unspeakables had in their secretive care.

Hogwarts had a long history of strife with the Ministry, and while the people upstairs were unlikely to be happy about their private information, their true strength, or indeed in the case of Lord McClain, embarrassingly low DMS, being recorded and stored in the Ministry bowels, there was little they could do about it.

While the Unspeakables had such a record, they rarely felt the need to check it, that was until they received notice from the Office of the Minister that the average DMS of the Hogwarts first-year class was 50. Suddenly the Unspeakables couldn't check the book fast enough.

Pulling out volume MXIIV, and the current volume MXXI the unspeakables immediately began finding names, names that shouldn't have had a change in DMS at all.

Albus Dumbledore 500+ ... 500+

Alastor Moody - 424 ... 500+

Arthur Weasley - 187 ... 219

Bart Crouch - 192 ... 227

Cornelius Fudge - 175 ... 190

Jillery Blathingshot - 112 ... 132

Lucius Malfoy - 230 ... 250

Milicent Pertrude - 102 ... 120

In the case of every single name that they had searched in the last 11 years, the individuals listed DMS had increased an average of 22 points.

Regulus and Algernon looked at each other in confusion, this would take a lot more research, because either the wand readers' calibration was horribly skewed, or else Wizards, who were past their magical maturity were getting stronger, and if wizards were getting stronger, then so was the likely-hood that everything else that was magical was getting stronger as well.

Everyone had been under the impression that the sundering of the veil had happened only this last year, but had it in fact happened with the defeat of Voldemort? There were only two people who could provide them with any semblance of an answer, and one was running off on some adventure, and the Arcanist was simply unresponsive.

**Long A/N: **Hello! Things are beginning to pick up, part of the reason I am writing this story is to enjoy some good old fashion world-building, I know sometimes I build more than in other places, but this chapter is hopefully a sizable change from previous chapters. It is also the first chapter of what I would call the actual story.

Now I have gotten comments (I do read them,) asking about what I am drawing from. To answer that question I will simply say that I will not limit myself with what I decide to use. As you can see with this chapter, there are many gods, dimensions, realms and personally, I like the fact that everything isn't perfectly explained, we are exploring the arcane mysteries folks, binding ourselves to rules. So sorry if that is a cop-out, but I do not want to limit myself this early in the game. I hope you guys are enjoying what is happening here as much as me!

Albus is a lynchpin in the Ministry and Hogwarts, and as everyone agrees, his secrets have secrets. Now I am sure you are all wondering what the hell is going on with the veil, and why people's magic is being all funky. Basically, if it wasn't clear: The veil was created by gods/goddesses and other immortals who sacrificed most of their power, not losing it per say but more tying it up in this project, to split apart the different realms that were previously all connected.

Let me see if I can explain this; before the cataclysm, Midgard was like the body of the spider, and its legs lead to different realms, all part of the same dimension, connected, but very much part of the same whole. Olympus was on a mountain, Alfheimr was in the forests, a pocket dimension, but still very much a part of earth. Same with Svartalfheimr. Now there were still different realms, for example, Asgard, the Hell dimension, etc. which were all accessible, but through something like a Bifrost, or true portal.

When the Demons' really began to be a problem, and the Gods/immortals broke everything up, walling it off, what they did was move Svartalfheimr to its own plane of existence. Now some are still connected, but it's no longer like the spider and its legs, Midgard is no longer the center, but now one of a massive chain of realms, some connect to some others, others connect to still others, there is really no logic to how they are connected except some lead some places, and not others.

But what this did was clog up all of the magic. The natural flow of magic was severely changed, and because of this, magic became stagnant in certain places, Midgard being one of them.

This is why the elves who were left on earth, all became 'malnourished' and over several generations became mere shadows of what they were. Malnutrition, and a genetic mess aside, they still have in their DNA - their magical identity, the spark of elven magic that makes an Elf an Elf, which is what Hadrian got from Posey.

But Elvish Magic, it is one that is multidimensional and more importantly wild, and when Hadrian cast true Wild Magic, he poked a little hole in the Dimensional wall, one that allowed magic to flow from the high pressure to low-pressure realm with more _ease._ Now if he poked a hole - why has there not been demons popping up everywhere. Well one why would they look? And two, who said the whole was one that connected to a place the demons had access to.

I hope that clears things up a bit. As for Daphne, I have not forgotten about her, but I am still debating whether I put small little sections of her as I did for Tob, or I leave what she is doing/going through as a surprise. Additionally, I purposely chose not to give her a moment with Hadrian. They both need to grow up a bit, I am not writing the kind of thing where they both fall in love instantly. I am not even convinced that she will _'be' _with him in the first place, let's see what happens.

Also if one of you feels like you want to help everyone by being a Beta and helping me edit away, it would be much appreciated.

Thanks for reading.


	7. What Lies in the Deep (8240)

**Chapter 7: What Lies in the Deep **

Hadrian stood at the mouth of the cave, Albus and he had been preparing to enter the deep for several weeks. They had gone to Gringotts, prepared themselves, equipped and brought some serious gear, expensive potions, even brought Albus' Cornucopia. They didn't know how long this next journey was going to take them, and under no circumstances did they want to die due to something stupid like starvation.

The goblins of Gringotts had proven valuable allies and had provided the lost material that hinted on several potential entrances to _Dhemdarǔm_, they were disappointed to find only cave-ins at the first two attempts, but their goblin guide and partner in this, prince Rath'gar was proving to be most helpful in their search. They stood outside of the latest lead, the two wizards taking one final look at the sky before they descended into the mouth of what they both privately hoped would not be their tomb.

If they wanted to have any hope of finding the Álfinheimr and _answers_ they had to find _Dhemdarǔm, _and after all of the two admittedly smartest men in their respective generations' efforts, they were led to this unmarked, unremarkable cave in the mountains of Denmark.

"Are you ready for an adventure, Headmaster?"

"I think I am." With a flick of his hand, the Elder Wand stretched out into its true form, a long, gnarled staff. Tapping it lightly Albus created a nimbus of light that floated above the staff. Their magical trunks safely in their robes, the two wizards departed on their quest. To find what no one in several generations had managed. To find the city of Dhemdarǔm.

The path was dark and craggy, inhospitable was polite. The two walked in more or less silence. There was no use stirring anything more than they had to by letting their voices echo through ahead of them.

They walked for several hours, the tunnel becoming more and more refined the deeper into the tunnel structure that they got. Eventually, they happened across a large room in which there was a single stone platform, and on it was a statue of what appeared to be a dwarf sitting on the platform.

All three adventurers stopped. Had it been so easy to find the dwarves? The goblin prince, his heavy armor, looking surprisingly flexible and light for its size strode up to the dwarf and scrutinized it.

"The Dwarves long practice the art of bringing the life out of the stone, all stones have life, but few can capture it. This is but a remnant of that mastery I suspect. It reads_ Thrain, Mountain Lord. Last Lord under the open sky, may you forever drink while your enemies die. " _

_ "Incredible."_ Albus' reverence was entirely justified, the statue was by any definition incredible. It seemed more alive than it did stone, even the color of the stone glowed nearly lifelike, the small hairs, each seeming to rustle in an invisible, and indeed non-existent breeze. The echo of Thrain truly did the Dwarf Lord justice.

"The king holds an empty flagon. But other than that I can see no place here in this cavern that could be useful for understanding how we are to gain entrance to the Dwarven Kingdom. Pulling out the Cornucopia, Albus whispered, and beer flowed from it, filling the mug of the Dwarven King. When it was full, they stood back, and the stone king lifted the tankard to his lips, and drank it, raising his glass again. There wasn't even a grinding sound as the stone slab opened up, revealing a set of stone stairs that led into the darkness.

Seeing the path forward, Albus descended into the darkness first, with Hadrian and Prince Rath'gar bringing up the rear. They walked down the steps and were greeted by a wooden lift, seeing nothing else they all got on the lift, and after pulling the lever began their true descent.

They descended for what must have been 23 grueling hours, and finally they arrived, they had taken shifts to sleep, and were grateful they had done so, as had they not, they would have been _extremely _tired after the sheer number of steps they had been made to climb down.

Suddenly the stone walls opened up revealing a cavern that stretched as far as the eye could see. Their elevator one of what seemed to be several scattered across the gargantuan cavern. Truly, an entire _city_ was sprawled out inside of it, the monolithic structures, upon further notice, _carved_ from the ground. They could see the small sparks of what was probably several dozen armed men waiting to accost them upon their arrival.

As the lift nearly reached the ground, Albus tapped the Elder wand onto it, and his companions felt a series of protections cocoon them. Hadrian too patted both of his compatriots on the back and cast several sigils of mage armor, and protection over them, it would not due to simply be killed by a stray arrow or something.

As the lift touched down, Hadrian heard the cocking of several dozen crossbows and dwarven firearms.

State name and purpose. The dwarf spoke in broken true-tongue, and it was clear that he did so for a reason. They were currently on what seemed to be an inverse fortress ward. One that kept things in, not out. They would not be able to move or leave until the _Dwarves allowed them to do so. _

_Greetings Master Dwarf, I am Albus Dumbledore, this is Hadrian Potter and our friend Prince Rath'gar of the goblins. We come seeking your wisdom. _

What business and wisdom could two _humans and a goblin be seeking here? Ye will find no quarter for thieves here in the halls of Dhemdarǔm. The dwarf had not seemed impressed by their names. _

"We understand, we seek an audience with someone who could point us in the direction of the _elves, Master Dwarf_." Albus had subtly cast a translating spell.

"Fine, it has been an age since any humans have made it down here, and I am sure that the King will in the least be wanting to hear the news of the top world. Though I doubt his majesty is knowing much about pointy-eared Elves. Don't think ye can catch us off guard, one false move, and you'll be feeling my ax."

"We don't want any trouble," Dumbledore said placatingly. The two wizards felt more than saw the wards disengage, allowing the party of three to make their way after them.

The city of _Dhemdarǔm _was a vast one, it was in no uncertain terms, a testament to the skill with which the dwarves constructed anything, the city was lit by torches that burned along every street, the city itself, being only decently lit, especially given the fact that the massive ceiling's roof was not visible in any way, only a dark abyss, that eerily reminded the top orders of a cloudy no-moon night sky.

The Palace was a grand building, hewn like everything else in _Dhemdarǔm _from the rock of the cavern if the rest of Dhemdarǔm was grand, the palace was a masterpiece. The filigree lacing across the stone parapets was as captivating as the clever way the winding walls of the palace never at any point seemed to end, yet if you were standing in front of a door it was impossible to miss. The metal structures and mechanisms would in many instances put the muggle world to shame in their complexity, and without a doubt, the statues that covered the entire city were more beautiful than any renaissance sculpture could hope to achieve with human hands.

The trio was escorted to a hall as massive as everything else had been proved to be. There in the back of the room, was the King of the Dwarves, on a huge throne made of gem-studded gold, the work was far more intricate than metal should have been capable of, flitting this way and that, sigils inscribed on gossamer runes that were barely visible even as they approached the throne itself.

" King Rurolir Flintmane, Deeplord, Lord of _Dhemdarǔm welcomes you topworlders." _The dwarven king was a stout man, tall and muscled like most of the other Dwarves, he had a hard face and a fantastic beard. His armor was gold along with his winged helm.

Albus flowed into a deep bow, his years of politics clearly preparing him for such occasions. Hadrian and Prince Rath'gar followed suit with equal grace.

"Greetings Deeplord. We are honored to gaze upon your halls. To see the majesty of your empire, it is indeed far grander than any legend could have described." Albus' voice was polished, yet not too polished, strong, yet not to the point of undue arrogance, it was just right. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and these are my companions, Hadrian Potter, and Prince Rath'gar of the Clan of Gringotts."

"Well met Master Dumbledore, Master Potter, and Prince Rath'gar. What brings you to my kingdom, for I am sure had you simply come to see the sights, you would never have found it in the first place."

"Indeed Deeplord, we came to seek your aid. We are searching for the Elves in Álfinhiemr, there is no way to reach there from Earth, as you are most likely far more aware than Wizards such as ourselves of the Dimensional separation of our realms." The Dwarf King's bushy black eyebrows rose at that.

"Well met Master Wizards. But tell me what is so important that you need to find the Elves?" Hadrian stepped forward, head inclined respectfully to the king as he silently requested permission to speak. The king nodded at him to explain.

"Several months ago Earth was the victim of the first Demon summoning since the Cataclysm." All of the noise in the hall _died immediately. _

"Someone _...summoned... a demon to Earth willingly?" _The king's shock was clearly shared by every other member of the hall.

"Not just a demon, a named Lord of the Fifth Circle._"_

"_Oh Merciful Odin, they summoned a Lord of the Fifth Circle?! _What happened to it, is it still running around topworld?" The king's hand clenched the gold throne so hard his knuckles were white.

"Well after a short trip to the Nightmare dimension, we killed it." everyone in the hall stared at the young wizard in front of them.

"Prove it." Was the King's response.

With a gesture, both Hadrian and Albus revealed their Soul Magic, and there in glowing true script read _Slayer of Gorzoth the Frightful of the Fifth Circle. _The king sat back on his throne, even as three Court Runemasters came and investigated the veracity of the soul magic for themselves.

"It is true, Deeplord. They have slain a Lord of the Fifth Circle."

"So is the veil torn? Do I have to close my realm off from the Earth?" The King said with sharpness. Dumbledore and Hadrian glanced at each other cautiously.

"No your Majesty, the summoning was completed, the Demon killed in the Nightmare Dimension. As far as we are aware, there should be no further immediate threat to anyone."

"Then why do you need the elves?" it was not the King who asked the question, but one of the other lords who sat in a smaller throne off to the side.

Hadrian strode forward, pulling his hair away from his ears, he disabled the true glamor that hid his ears, revealing that they tapered to a point.

"We had a vision, one that bodes poorly for us all when the demons finally do come knocking, and I would like to know my people." Hadrian looked over to his mentor whose eyes showed his shock at the revelation.

Hadrian and Albus never did get to hear the King's response to Hadrian's bombshell of a revelation, for, at that moment, a fel presence filled the Hall, the Elder Wand, and Eldingr, flickering into existence with nary a movement.

/Hail Deeplord./ The voice smashed into the minds of all present, regardless of the unassailable occlumency barriers that the Supreme Mugwump had up. Driving every member of the court to their knees.

"How dare you defile my throne room." The Dwarven King alone seemed unaffected by the powerful psychic attack, his rage evident. The sapphire on his helm glowing brightly.

/You will find that few places are outside our reach. Your topworlder allies will not be allowed to interfere!/ The hall was filled with screams as one of the dwarves, who must have had a particularly weak mind, began screaming and clawing at his head.

"NOOooooOOooo the tentacles please, they are everywhere!" His eyes rolled up in his head and he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Hadrian's wand glowed, even as the shadows pooled. And from their depths Tentacles, more suited for a Kraken or a giant squid erupted out of the walls, hundreds of them, Some as thin as a finger, others as thick as a barrel, and some, ten barrels. Hadrian leaped into action

"_Orbis praesidium". _Nothing happened around Hadrian, but the king suddenly found, a dozen tentacles smashing into the glowing orb around him.

With a flick, Hadrian tethered the spell to his left hand, the spell band rotating around his sleeve even as his wand shifted into the wicked leaf-shaped blade that was its true form. Spinning around, he bisected the tentacle that had been about to wrap its way around Dumbledore's neck. As the headmaster had bent to help a dwarf who had been stricken with the psychic attack.

Nodding in his direction the Elder Wand flickered into the true Deathstick, Dumbledore losing all pretense of being a diplomat and becoming the Powerful Warmage that he was. Slamming the butt of the Deathstick into the ground, dozens of tentacles were shredded by the intent-based shredding hex that Dumbledore casually cast. Rath'gar like the Dwarves was especially vulnerable to psionic attacks that were still being used to pin down the Dwarves and prevent them from mounting any sort of real defense of their king. Who was Hovering inside a glowing blue orb even as the tentacles tried their best to _crush_ it and _their King. _

/You can not deny Ilsensine. The Lord of Tentacles _will_ consume you!/

Hadrian was a whirlwind, spinning through the air, slicing every tentacle in reach, he knew that it was his and the headmaster's unspeakable sigils that were shielding them from this crippling psionic paralysis that the rest of the throneroom's inhabitants were experiencing, but he had no way to cast such a complex sigil _and_ maintain the shield around the king, which was currently being crushed with an exorbitant amount of force.

Albus moved with a grace that belied his age, the Deathstick flitting this way and that, every movement, the _death _of another tentacle. Had he been focused on anything other than boosting his precognition to the max, to save as many of the Dwarves as possible, he would have noticed that the Deathstick had an ethereal blade on the end, appearing as the scythe of Death to any in its path.

Spinning the Deathstick, the scythe's blade shredded through a dozen of the phantom limbs in an instant. The blade slicing through the sticky supple flesh with less effort than a razor blade parts skin. The room was suddenly rent with a cry. one of the Dwarf Lords had just been driven mad, his mind consumed by the fel tentacles that were violating Ruilor's halls.

'Albus! We need to do something about the wards, these damned things keep coming, they are infinite. Have you read the Tome of Doorways?' Eldingr flickered as it sliced through a series of tentacles. That had found their way _onto_ what looked like a dark elf maid.

'Yes, I assume you are talking of Lefeber's Weave Mythal?' Dumbledore raised the Deathstick in the air and with a pulse all of the moisture was ripped from the nearest swath of tentacles, crumbling away in an instant as the cells that made up their form, were instantly dehydrated.

'I am indeed thinking of a Mythal, perhaps not as grandiose as Lefebers' but something to give us a break from this onslaught of tentacles.' A flick of Hadrian's hand sent a series of iron spikes through the tentacles.

'We will need a moment free of protecting the dwarves, Hadrian.' The water he had pulled from the tentacles, now spikes of ice, impaling a dozen of the intruding tentacles to the walls where they hung, twitching.

'Leave it to me.'

"_Fulminata_!" Nothing seemed to happen than with a roar the room was filled with a matrix of lightning the arcing bolts of plasma causing the tentacles to convulse in agony. The first thing that seemed to affect them beyond the slashing.

Eldingr obeyed its master's command even as the lightning grew more strong and doubled on the captive tentacles, carefully avoiding even singing a single dwarf or noncombatant in the entire hall. Arcing around suits of metal that would have surely been a hazard for the normal lightning user. The celestial flames burned through the multitude of tentacles, the Lichtenberg figures glowing a moment as the lightning disappeared, leaving after images in everyone's eyes.

The tentacles seemed to writhe in agony, curling this way and that. With a sweep of their wands, the two wizards summoned everyone in the room on to the king's dias and stepped in front of them. While it was considered impossible to summon a wizard, the same was thankfully untrue for non-wizards.

The King's floating orb slowly dropping to the ground, even as Dumbledore and Hadrian joined forces and began reconstructing the destroyed wards into something _useful. _

The Deathstick and Eldingr both firmly embedded into the ground as the two Mages cast the spell that would end all of this for now, a Mythal_. _

_A __**mythal**__ was a powerful magical effect, created by a group of spellcasters to protect and ward a large area with numerous powerful enchantments. The earliest mythals were created by a circle of _Elven Archmages. A typical mythal prevented certain schools of magic from being employed while empowering others. It could restrict access to the warded area to certain classes of beings.

"King Rurolir!" Hadrian whispered, "We are going to raise wards that will stop all this, and prevent this from happening again, those nine men have had their minds consumed, if your people want to be protected from whatever this is, we will need them to fuel the Mythal"

"Do it. These Illithid bastard worshipers of Illsensine have attacked us for the last time, those men would have gladly given their lives to stop it from happening again." The king's eyes were narrowed with hate, as the enemies, he had no real hope in defeating them and continued to writhe in agony from the Lichtenberg figures that still glowed across their flesh.

"Are there any who can maintain this shield, and help us with our Mythal? Supply it with power while we end this threat to your kingdom?"

Hadrian said to the fifty or so Dwarven guards and Lords and Court attendings all crowded into the small space.

"I think I should be able to." Hadrian looked in surprise at the voice, soft and dulcet, and belonging to a dusky-skinned elf. A _Drow. She was powerful, but not predominantly a magic-user. _

_ "Me as well." A second drow. A _Sorcerer from the look of things.

_ "Do so_. Albus and I shall handle the Mythal." When the two magic users had firmly taken control of the shield, and were keeping it up, Hadrian knew it was time to act.

"Albus!" Gathering the old man's attention, Hadrian concentrated on Eldingr, returning it to its wand form, then on a whim, urging it into a staff form, long and metallic. Eldingr, hummed in agreement with their decision, it often enjoyed aiding him, he doubted very much that it would approve with losing at anything. With Eldingr in its most magic suited form in hand, Hadrian was ready to begin, he nodded to Albus.

Albus, Deathstick planted in the ground, began the incantation, the lives of the nine mindless dwarfs fueling one of the most dangerous and powerful spells in existence. A Grand Mythal.

"_Itaque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna." _Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the shield, as he began the first of eleven incantations. Hadrian beginning the second even as Dumbledore was half way through the first line,

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna_." The Dwarf King watched on in unabashed awe, as a runic circle began scribing itself into the floor centered around the two wizards.

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna_." Again Dumbledore chanted, the circle was now 25 feet across, and its first ring was complete, the runes glowing a white shimmering color.

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna_." The fourth invocation by Hadrian saw another circle of runes, a much smaller form inside the larger circle, only 10 feet across, but no less eldritch.

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna_." The runes now flowed into the air around the two wizards who were now incanting simultaneously. Holding in one hand the other's and their own focus, and with the other, gripping the other's staff as they chanted. Their words echoed through all the minds and the air of all of Dhemdarǔm, and the _tentacles knew fear. _

_They knew_ if they did not stop this, they would be in a lot of trouble. So more tentacles flew out of the shadow pooling on the walls. Smashing against the barrier that the Drow and the Gnomish sorcerer maintained, they were the weakest link, and if they could be broken, then all would be well.

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna_." The runes began to glow, brighter, before, they were gossamer lines, shimmering like spiderwebs, now they were more akin to fire burning through the air.

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. Mythal magna_." The tenth time the incantation was recited, multiplying its power exponentially as the two used their mental link to cast as one, rather than weave their spell together, the script glowed so brightly that all witnessing this _act of Magick _were nearly blinded by its light. Suddenly all in attendance knew, they knew the spells words, they knew what they needed to do. The Magic itself coaxing the Dwarves to join in the final chant to create a mighty Mythal that would protect their home.

"I_taque, invocato a nobis scutum et clypeum, qui in sphaera coquere, texere, de fortissimorum circulus salutem. __**MYTHAL MAGNA.**_" A million voices joined together as the Magic of the Dwarven people urged them forward, adding its own strength to that of Dumbledore, Hadrian, and the nine Dwarf Lords who sacrificed their living bodies post mortem to protect their home.

In a roar of magic that was akin to a spiritual flashbang, the two Wizards had completed the Grand Mythal, one of the spells of legend. It normally took the lives of any who cast it, and in doing so, the two had changed the fate of the entire Dwarven Empire. The sphere surrounding them exploding, driving _out _the Tentacles, and most likely, badly punishing whatever was there to receive the backlash of whatever was behind the illithid's fel magic. The magic flowed outward through the entire massive cavernous city of Dhemdarum. The power and the command of the Grand Mythal resting in the hands of the Dwarf who sat on the Throne of Dhemdarǔm.

Hadrian and Dumbledore, stood, held upright only by their locked muscles, as the pain of channeling so much magic filled them, both collapsed helplessly on the ground.

When Hadrian awoke, he was laying in a bed, crisp white sheets and the minty smell alerted him to his whereabouts before he even opened his eyes. Sensing his Master's presence he relaxed. He was surprised by how much he had grown accustomed to having the mental like with Albus, it made the world so much less scary, even though they respected each others' privacy.

Sitting up, Hadrian rubbed his eyes, with a Gesture, Eldingr, was in his hands, his body had been cleansed of all of the slime that had coated it, the grime that had covered it in both the journey to Dhemdarǔm and the battle in the throneroom. Albus lay sleeping in the bed next to him, and one more bed over, Rath'gar lay, the goblin had been caught by the telekinetic paralysis.

Seeing his robes nearby, he quickly changed. Sending his Arcanist robes into the trunk, and pulling on a simple yet fetching grey and silver pair. He turned around to see his Goblin companion looking at him, from his own bed on the other side of Albus'

"I don't suppose you want your own change of clothes?"

"That would be perfect thank you," The goblin said, rolling out of bed himself, and turning to look at Hadrian who had just summoned the goblin's trunk for him.

"It seems I owe you an apology Rath'gar." Hadrian began. "In our rush to reach the dwarven kingdom, Albus and I didn't take the time to ensure you had the right _protections _to deal with the kind of thing that might be after _Albus and I." _Rath'gar shrugged it off.

"It is not your fault, I for one didn't expect to immediately be assaulted by a Tentacle hoard the second I set foot in the Dwarven Kingdom."

"And for that, I apologize. And thank you all, you have done the Dwarven empire a great service today, protecting her capital and people at your own risk." both wizard and goblin turned calmly and were greeted by the king, leaning against the wall, dressed "simply", by which Hadrian assumed just meant less armor.

"I did not have time to inform you of the war we had found ourselves waging, and admittedly loosing when you came into the Deep. The War against the _Mindflayers_." The Dwarven King seemed to sag.

"We are masters of many crafts, _active_ magic is not one of them. The illithid on the other hand, they are all about their powers over the mind, they are dangerously intelligent, each one a genius in their own, they have driven the Night Elves, the Drow from their home, or enslaved what little of their population they didn't kill, and whatever remained fled to Dhemdarum seeking sanctuary, and while they Mindflayers themselves cannot assault Dhemdarum, as you saw, they need no such physical reach to harm us." The Dwarven King stood straighter and began pacing across the room. "What exactly did you do?"

"We have prevented all kinds of Magic from entering your city, you now control utterly the magic that can and cannot be used in Dhemdarum. Currently, any magic that is deemed 'maleficent' for the existence of the Dwarven people and kingdom, is banned. So as you are at war with these Mindflayers, they will be unable to enter, in any way, the city.

_ "Are there limitations?" _

"Not that I am aware of, though I would have to check the circle at the base of your throne."

"Can it be destroyed?"

"Not by anything less than a _wish". _The Dwarven King blinked in surprise. "To give you an idea, myself and Albus could not even use our very special weapons and get _ourselves through_ if we were so inclined, which means that basically, everything else, including a demon will have no hope of entering so long as there are two dwarven men in the city, the more the stronger the Mythal. It is the very same protection that the Elves cast around any and all of their cities."

"Is there anything else I should know? Are all wizards like you two?" The king was clearly stressed by the idea.

"It is customary to name the Mythal after the main caster, however, we would like for you to name it something else instead."

"But why?" The king seemed puzzled.

"Because a normal Mythal requires the sacrifice of the main caster, but this Mythal, was made not by our sacrifice, but by the eight _Dwarves _who were brain dead from the attack, as it was not our sacrifice, I would be very ashamed to take it away from the _Dwarf Lords _who died that day, for truly they were lordly in their sacrifices."

"True words Master Wizard, it does you and your people honor. Very well. From now onwards, _Dhemdarum_ shall be known as _Dhemdarum; Mythal of the Dwarf Lords._

"That he does King Ruroil." Albus's voice sounded suddenly. Hadrian whirled around, rushing to his friend and teacher.

"How are you, Albus?" Hadrian asked with a hint of worry.

"I am fine Hadrian, feeling quite a bit better than I had expected to feel." Albus responded out loud. Privately he continued the conversation in their link.

'Perks of possession perhaps?'

'The Hallows?' Hadrian asked quietly.

'Indeed.' The voice of King Ruroil cut off further discussion.

"If you are feeling well enough, the other Lords of Dhemdarum are awaiting your presence in the hall for a feast in celebration of _our _victory in Seven Gvex."

"Seven Gvex?" Hadrian asked confused.

"A measure of time perhaps?" Dumbledore asked amused.

"Correct... though now it occurs to me, that it is one that is beyond useless at explaining when you are expected at dinner. Hmmmph. A dilemma I had not expected. No matter, I shall send someone to fetch you. If you would be so kind, to wear these pins while you were in our city, it will serve to help us locate you, and also mark you as a royal guest while you are here."

"It would be no trouble at all," Hadrian responded taking three of the pins and passing them along.

"We await your presence." Bowing slightly, the King made his way out of the infirmary.

Dinner with dwarves was something of a marvel. Hadrian knew that whoever had cooked the dinner feast for the Dwarves of Dhemdarum were indeed culinary masters. Hadrian, Rath'gar, and Albus were seated with King Ruroil, his wife, and three sons, but unlike in other kingdoms, where the king ate at their own table, Hadrian noted that the King ate wherever he pleased.

The dwarven women were another thing that was in some ways a marvel, they were in a shocking turn of events beautiful, just smaller. They could easily be mistaken for a rather small human woman, rather than the Dwarf men. And for the first time in his life, Hadrian had to avoid the _attention_ of the eager court women, though, from the King's laughter, he probably could get away with not _avoiding_ quite so hard. The Drow and the Gnome who had aided them were surprisingly nowhere to be seen, and after a while of partying and flirting with gorgeous and increasingly aggressive Dwarvish women, Hadrian decided that he would _cool off_ outside for a bit.

'I am going to head out Albus. Explore the City. See if I cannot find that Drow, I would very much like to see what my people are like.'

'Hadrian...'

'Albus, I will remind you that I have been running the solo act for far longer than I have been in this team structure. I was not asking permission simply _informing you _so you don't worry.'

'Yes Hadrian, thank you. It is _still_ unnatural for me to allow one so young as you to participate in this madness. Go, I am a thought away should you need something.'

'Enjoy the rest of the feast Albus.'

Hadrian walked through the palace, his occlumency leading him expediently through the maze-like corridors. Eventually, he made it to a gate. The guard at attention noticed him and immediately bowed.

"I will be going out, is there anyone I should notify so I can be let back in?"

"I think ser, ye will be _easily recognized." _

"Ok, thank you." Hadrian walked through the stone gate, dallying his way through the bustling city, looking in confusion for any signs of races other than Dwarves. He could find none, he stepped into a shop, realizing with a shrug, that he lacked any _dwarvish currency._ Realizing that he could deal with that if and when he got to the purchasing part, he began to browse the shopkeeper's wares.

There was a rather large variety of intricately wrought jewelry, and he wondered if Daphne would like any of it.

Seeing one particularly beautiful piece, one with a sapphire that alone would be worth several hundred thousand galleons, as it was _ward stone quality. _

_ "How much is this?"_ Hadrian's judicious use of a universal translating charm would pay off he hoped.

"340 Turgots sir." Turgots!? Hadrian wondered what kind of currency a Turgot was.

"Can you point me in the direction of where the elves live."

"I know you are not from around here, but if I were you, I would not be sticking my head where it does not belong."

"Thank you for your help, and for your advice." He replied with respect as he slinked off. Perhaps shopping without Albus and the king was a poor idea after all. Gazing up at the twinkling star-like crystals that hung from the cavern ceiling, Hadrian settled down on the roof he had climbed onto and simply gazed into the illusion of a sky.

_In the Palace_

_ "_So from what I understand these Illithid, they are worshipers of Ilsensine, their fel god of Tentacles?" Albus asked curiously.

"Yes. Though we call him the Tentacled Lord, rather than invoke his name and sight to us." The court advisor told Albus cautiously.

"Understood. So these Illithid, do they have a place of their own? We have never seen them on the surface" Albus was curious, there was something that _Nyx disliked _about the Illithid, and Dumbledore was not about to miss an opportunity to learn more of the feeling that was coming from his _domain mistress. _

"There are many cities in the Deepcaverns. Some are safe to travel in, some are not. The Illithid do not have cities the way we do, or even society, understand, they are part of a hive mind. Though they maintain the ability to have their own thoughts, they exist and believe that the Elder Brain that governs their colony is the supreme lifeform. As for them being on the surface, you should not have them there as they can not tolerate light. "

"Do they actually consume brains?" Albus asked intrigued.

"Yes, illithid feed on the brains of only sentient creatures, they are heinous, adopting the culture, and memories and skills of the devoured like they are their own. This was the only kind of nourishment that can sustain the mindflayer physiology, which requires hormones, enzymes, and psychic energy that only brain tissue can provide for them. There is no end to their savagery, wizard."

"How did they come to be though?"

"They are likely dimensional aliens, ones that adapted well enough and chose to stay. They lay a clutch of eggs from which tadpoles hatched once or twice in their lives. These tadpoles are kept in the Elder Brain tank, where they were fed brains by caretakers and engaged in cannibalism for around ten years. There is little doubt, they are truly evil creatures, their hate for light is only eclipsed by their hatred for _Magic_, they are no friend of yours, Wizard."

"Hm, I see. So then the tadpoles grow into illithids?"

"If only it were so, no, the Tadpoles that survive to maturity are put through the ceremony of ceremorphosis, where each gets implanted into a humanoid victim and devour its brain, taking its place and merging with the body to transform it into a new illithid." Dumbledore and Rath'gar both wore faces of sheer revulsion at the description of the Illithid's ceremorphosis.

"How do they spread colonies though? If only Illithid can be created then how do they spread?"

"Every so often a tadpole turns into something, something much worse than an Illithid, an Ulitharid, the _Noble Devourer _in their own tongue. They are bigger, stronger, more powerful, more cunning, harder to kill and not controlled by the Elder Brain. They take some of the illithid and go make another colony somewhere, and turn into an elder brain themselves. Elder Brains and Ulitharid are both terrifying Masters of Psionics and the Mental Arts. To attempt to kill one is suicide."

"They are truly terrifying, what you two staved off was the massacre of our entire military leadership. We would have surely lost a great many Dwarves had you not reacted as you did to save us." The advisor explained.

"It is perhaps for the best that you are here, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you and young Hadrian tomorrow after you have slept off all of this food and drink, Meet me in the throne room after you break your fast, we shall discuss how we can help each other. Now I have a wife to tuck in." With a wink the Dwarf King led his blushing wife away from the snickering advisors, Albus knew he would not sleep easy until he was out of this place. None of the rules mattered here, and he so loved his rules.

Hadrian awoke the next day to see, Rath'gar Meditating.

"Good night out?" Rath'gar asked his eyes still closed.

"Not as good as I had hoped," Hadrian said innocently. "Are you aware they call their money Turgots?" Hadrian laughed at the Gringotts Goblin's expression of disgust.

"What a hideous sounding currency."

"Quite. It truly is, isn't it."

"After that, I just took a stroll and came back to the room and went to sleep. Where is Albus?"

"Ah, Albus is looking something up in the Library." The Prince vaguely gestured at Hadrian's trunk which was pushed up against the wall. Nodding he stood up and headed off in the direction of the baths. Surprised to see Albus was still not out of the trunk when he had returned. Nor when he returned from breakfast. Puzzled, he ventured down into the expanded fortress of a Trunk that the two Wizards had furnished together for the summer.

"Albus?"

"Yes, Hadrian?

"What have you been doing this entire time."

"Reading."

"Reading _what?" _Hadrian was a small bit amused and a small bit annoyed, why couldn't the man simply give him a straight answer.

"Do you know what I found out yesterday?" Albus gestured over to the Pensive that was sitting on the corner table. Taking it as permission. Hadrian went over and touched his fingers to the Pensive, getting sucked inside.

"Illithids? Hm, the ministry under Drakus Potter fought and killed several. They hate our kind of Magic. Did you know they are considered part of the Unspeakable? The Ministry worked very hard to remove any hint of them though, so it doesn't surprise me you haven't heard of them. I never thought much of them. Do you really think that is what we fought yesterday."

"No Hadrian, yesterday I think we fought the summoned tentacles of their god. Had either you or I been touched, we would have both been instantly pitted against the might of a _psychic_ god. I am worried about this link that we have shared. I value its utility, but not when we are dealing with such powerful Mind Magic users. There is little guarantee that even if we whispered in each other's mind, that the thread connecting our minds through our blood cannot be used as a way to bypass our defenses," as the implication of this became evident, Hadrian became a bit paler.

"I had not even considered that our link would be a workaround our various sigils as well, directly allowing access to our blood, and by extension each other. The Throne room battle could have gone very differently if even a single tentacle had touched either you or I." Hadrian said.

"I have come to rely on the link Hadrian, both for a sign that you are alright, and also as a rock as we traverse through this insanity, I have spent the last several hours here searching in the vain hope that I can find something to protect us. Even though our minds are connected through the rather ingenious blood magic of yours."

"What about another blood ritual." Albus' head snapped up fast.

"You know my feelings on the subject Hadrian. It is a slippery slope, one that has already been the doom of many great wizards."

"Oh please, I am not a firsty, I have the memories of twenty or so Generations of _Potters._ Potters that have changed the course of the world, been on the inside of near every major Ministry decision and discovery since its conception. Potters have been around since before Rome fell. And _I_ remember most every single memory on magic that they felt to leave me, it is hardly a shock that I know of blood magic, and the fact that we could bury that thread through our blood, cutting off any external access to it, even by a god," Albus looked at him sadly, something that didn't sit well with Hadrian in the least.

"Oh stop it Albus, I am currently in the city of _Dhemdarǔm_ me a third year, almost a fourth year, I am the wielder of the sword Eldingr, a Divine Artifact. I am a _Goddamn adventurer._ I am having plenty of fun, now have you decided if you will let me do my blood magic thing and keep our connection, or not?" Hadrian so loved being a little shit sometimes.

"Fine." Albus grumbled, genuinely seeming grouchy about allowing a third year to perform a blood magic ritual on him.

"Wonderful. Now if I do believe we have a king to go and meet. Hadrian said with a grin, Dumbledore nodded, and Rath'gar grunted in agreement. They would handle their connection after the meeting.

The court of the Deep Lord was entirely different than the last time that they had been in it. The throne glowed with power, the very center of the Mythal, it now held a majesty that went beyond the skill of the dwarves.

"Welcome Sorcerers, and Goblin friends. We thank you for your service to the King of Dhemdarum, Lord of the Deep, and the vast and dark Svartalfheimr."

"You do us much honor Deep Lord," Albus' years of being a politician clearly showing themselves with the sheer poise and polish by which he accepted the King's thanks.

"Not only did you hold off the Many Tentacled God, summoned by the mindflayers themselves, but you also ensured that Dhemdarum remains in perpetuity a safe haven for Dwarves throughout Svartalfheimr. In thanks the people of Dhemdarum would offer you three this token of our gratitude, you shall be known as friend and allowed to pass through our lands. Additionally, our finest craftsmen have crafted a gift worthy of your bravery," the king gestured, and three dwarven pages strode up to the three well dressed visitors, presenting to them bracelets. Cuffs, made of the most intricately cast lattice any had seen, the flat knot design curling around the wrist, a large white stone set in its center.

"We are aware that you have much skill and magic, but we felt that perhaps we also had something of our own that _we_ could share with you. These are _Darhain_ _Cuffs_. They were commissioned, eight in number by a mage before the Cataclysm, they are intentionally blank so that the mage would be able to inscribe them himself. The have inside of them dozen nine knurl erôth. The knurl are large enough to be able to hold a rather frightening amount of magic in them," The King explained.

Hadrian graciously accepted his Darharian Cuff, he would, however, be a fool if he wore it without checking it first. It was, without doubt, a kingly gift, with what he suspected were over a dozen nine-carat diamonds.

"You are too kind Deep Lord, we shall treasure this symbol of our friendship, we had originally found ourselves in your kingdom to seek your wisdom on the location of Álfheimr. As you know, since the realms have been closed, there is no way to get to Álfheimr from _Midgard._ We hoped you would be able to share with us the way, just a few months ago, the veil was torn, and a Lord of the Fifth circle passed to Earth. We were able to stop it, to slay it, but we fear that there might be more coming, and the only ones who we know of who can help us prevent such an invasion are the Elves," Hadrian paused allowing the disbelief on the faces of the other courtiers to drain away to horror. The dwarves were an old people. In the time since the Cataclysm, only two dwarven kings had come and gone, both killed before their time by that which dwells in the Deep. There were many still alive, who were from that time the Dwarves that ventured out into the land with the infinite sky, many who had been themselves.

"I understand your plight. We are however beaten down by our current battle with the Mindflayers. The way that you seek lies deep beyond the Mindflayers territory, there is no way to reach there without wading through much of the deep_,"_ Hadrian physically restrained his urge to narrow his eyes.

'They are attempting to have us solve their Illithid problem,' Hadrian telepathically said to Albus.

'Indeed. I am surprised that they did not outright lie about the location whereabouts.' Albus responded, even his telepathic voice sounding grave.

'Do we have any choice?' Hadrian asked his mentor.

'It appears not. We are going to _wage war_ against the Illithid,' Albus and Hadrian would never admit it, but there was something about the adventure, the danger, the sheer alienness of their journey into the unspeakable mysteries that excited them far more than either wished. They would go where no man had in millennia, see things that no mortal had any right to, and they loved it.

"Deep Lord, tell me, would you be more _free_ to assist us in successfully traveling to the passage between Svartalfheimr and Álfheimr if we assisted you with your MindFlayer problem?" Albus spoke for them both. The King smiled.

A/N:: Hello all, This is the start of the next arc, it will, I hope, flesh out the characters a lot more. I suggest PMing me for the link to the Concept art I have compiled for the story if you want to see what is going on in my head. This story is A/U. It is my own conglomeration of ideas that are floating around, I hope you can appreciate the adventure that Albus and Hadrian are going on and also appreciate that they are their own characters, separate and distinct from the ones we know and love.

Additionally, The dwarves are a complex people, but Hadrian and Albus have only just met them, their relationships, and experiences are so far cursory, though I do hope you like what I do with it. This arc is planned out to be 7 chapters, I have completed 5/7 and they currently total 43k words.

I have been struggling with an update schedule, I know you guys want it all yesterday, but thoughts on a reasonable and regular schedule would be appreciated.

Additionally, we have met another recurring character this chapter; Rath'gar. He is a delightful character that I hope you will take the time to appreciate in the upcoming chapters, his role in this chapter is nearly irrelevant, and I apologize for that, he is not yet a "part" of Hadrian and Albus' group, rather someone who is physically accompanying the Master and Apprentice.

You will have hopefully noted that their relationship transcends the traditional mentor, mentee relationship, that it was mostly a political move, rather than a practical apprenticeship. Both have very different styles of fighting, very different and separate skills, you will see them in the upcoming chapters.

Also - I want more reviews, special thanks to LordVladhe and Nagyg2000, I appreciate the reviews, Check your PM's.

Additionally, thank you to Pickles, Chunnin33, HenryMorgan111, Laeknyr, Elephan, and everyone else who reviewed. People who PM me constructive ideas/ thoughts/ opinions/ feelings get rewarded. Don't be shy. I love hearing your thoughts and opinions


	8. Deepening Shadows (5896)

**Chapter 8: The Deepening Shadows**

Albus Dumbledore awoke, for the first time in recent memory, with a pervasive _ache._ It was not a feeling he was in anyway used to. The man and his Apprentice had gone through with the ritual, sealing it off, protecting themselves from the ethereal ravages of _telepaths, _masters of the mind arts, _unspeakable beings_, the works.

It was no stretch of the truth to say that the amount of magic that flowed through Albus was _unusual_ amongst wizardkind, or indeed most any of the inhabitants of Earth that he had met. But magic tended to heal the _aches _and pains of an old man's body in a way that no mortal's body should.

Perhaps it was a mark of his arrogance and dare he say it - hubris in the power of _his_ magic, but he had noticed in the last several years, after the defeat of Voldemort at the hands of John Potter, that he was _not _showing signs of aging. It was only after several years that he had noticed that his silver locks were not dominating _the few_ remaining black strands that had remained on his head and beard, at the speed which they had for the last fifty years. It was something that he had not noticed anyone else experiencing, but he had always simply assumed his eyesight was just getting worse, though perhaps there was more to what he felt than simple hubris.

Admittedly, young Hadrian had what was a remarkably complete understanding of the _nature_ of blood magic rituals. While he was admittedly a centennial wizard, in his youth, he had been embarrassingly superstitious of certain kinds of magic, only branching out further when he was introduced to Grindelwald.

Albus could safely say, Hadrian had already far surpassed Gellert and himself in his knowledge of the Arcana at a similar age. Though, Albus thought with some mirth, neither himself nor Gellert had had the luxury of the _Potter Memoriam. _Still Albus' strength lay more in his esoteric applications of Alchemy, Transfiguration, and Elemental Magics then with his knowledge of the more abstract, ancient or wild uses of magic.

Hadrian had in a perhaps terrifying show of skill completed a blood ritual, one that Dumbledore, on his best day, would dare not try, hidden in his very _being_ the existence of the psychic strand that connected them, their connections and thoughts would be safe, as they would no longer travel through the psychic _in-between _dimension as it were and enter the other's mind, but rather, their thoughts would take a shortcut through the blood _portal_ the boy had metaphorically created to facilitate such communication securely, there was no free psychic energy or thought that they would have to worry about their latest enemy abusing, the two now shared matching tattoos. A red rune behind their left ears. It was hidden enough by their ears and long hairs that neither was worried about it being found.

Standing up, his bones aching, Albus looked around the room. Hadrian was nowhere to be found, something that would have alarmed the man if it were not for the man's now deeper blood connection to the young man. He could feel that the boy was healthy.

'Hadrian?' the wizened man called out cautiously.

'Yes, professor, good to see that you are awake,' Hadrian's voice was far clearer than it had previously been. Something that to his embarrassment surprised him, there was a part of him that still doubted the usefulness of _bloodmagicks_, in all their obscureness, in improving or changing something he had studied for years, like mind magics. But there was no doubt, their connection was now superior.

'Where are you, Hadrian?'

'I am currently in the throne room' Albus' physical eyebrows leaped towards his hairline at that.

'What are you doing there?

'I am listening to the dwarves' plans of attacking the Mindflayers.'

'Why?' Albus asked with caution.

'Well you have been unconscious for five days Albus, was I supposed to sit idle?'

'_Five days?!'_

'Quite, now if you would please be quiet, I am trying to listen to the King's strategy.'

'I am coming to the throne room.'

'Take your time, I don't think this is going to be a short plan.' Hadrian said with some amusement.

Albus stood, looking around the room, horrified by the idea that he had spent five days laying in a bed in a realm unguarded and unprotected by anything but a student, who while talented was still not even a fourth-year yet. Having learned his lesson at Gringotts, Albus stood and scrambled to get his clothes on and make it to the throne-room before his wayward apprentice made some life-changing decision.

* * *

Indeed the Dwarven plans were anything but short, but Hadrian was learning far more than he had ever imagined sitting in the throne room listening carefully to the various military strategists outline the various options of attack. Hadrian had spent the last four days without Albus perusing and exploring the Dwarven city of Dhemdarum. The city was the capital of what the Norse of old had called Svartalfheimr. It was one of the Nine realms that the Vanir trapped on Earth as the Cataclysm had described.

It was also _so much more. _ Hadrian had finally found the library, but to his shock, the library he had discovered was no dusty tome-filled hall, but rather it was a library of stone tablets.

The dwarves were if nothing else, masters of _stone speaking _and _earth magic_. They could communicate with stone in a way none not born to it could understand. The stone or metal that they worked had a _consciousness._ Like all of the elements, a remnant of creation. An echo of when it all began. The dwarves could hear that, share with the stone _what_ they wanted to do, every swing of their hammers doing no more or less than what they desired.

The dwarven forges were in a word _legendary. _

Grand statues of Dwarven kings, of the gods of the Deep, weapons for their armies each piece a masterwork, each piece imbued and resonating with the connection that the dwarven smiths had with the material itself. Hadrian had thought to pick up a pair of Dwarven daggers but quickly decided against it at the almost angry shock that Eldingr had sent through him. When Hadrian drew it, he saw Eldingr had become a dagger so similar to the one that he had been looking at, that he had done a double-take. It seemed that while Eldingr would tolerate and even welcome his Holy wand's companionship, it would not extend such so easily, and nor to something Eldingr could so easily surpass.

So Hadrian had wandered here and there, exploring the vast Dwarven kingdom in the four days that Albus had been asleep, in a sort of _magical coma,_ as his mind and body adjusted to the blood ritual that Hadrian had performed. Hadrian for his part had performed enough blood rituals that he himself no longer even noticed the backlash of performing them.

Magic, like thought, created certain pathways, the more you tread and the more you journey along such a path, say you use your transfiguration more than the other magics, your magic will grow and adapt to be more suited for such arts. In Hadrian's case, while he was passable in transfiguration, he had always focused on the more abstract, wild, ancient magics; Runes, Sigils, Glyphs, Rituals, and recently Elemental magics. He was far from an expert in his mastery of the Elements, Hadrian was quite content being a cheater and focusing on the Element of Lightning rather than trying to attain a true Elemental aspect by _understanding _the element of Fire, Water, Air, or Earth.

Lightning was in elemental magic a combination between fire and air. It was something that he had found had become easier and easier to use for him the longer he was in possession of Eldingr. He suspected it was one of the many values of having such an artifact.

He had been cautious of venturing outside of the easily accessible areas. There was something _wrong_ here in Dhemdarum, from the Dwarves' reactions to his questions on where the _Elves lived _to the lack of any non-dwarf outside of the official courtroom. There was something strange going on, but he was unable to put his finger on just what it was.

The doors to the Dwarven throne room opening to admit Albus brought his thoughts back to the present. Albus looked weary, as was to be expected at one's _first_ meaningful use of blood magic. But he also looked strong.

Hadrian had not informed Albus yet, but he had noticed something strange with Albus' magic. It was almost like when he used the _Eye of the Jotun_, the pendant that he had found in the Tomb of Gödred the Hunter, its name and a remarkably good depiction present in one of the tomes that he had found on artifacts in the dwarven library, it felt like he was _frozen_ in time.

"I am glad to see that we have not found ourselves in yet another calamity during my short nap," Hadrian stifled a chuckle, it would seem his master was not over the events at Gringotts.

"Greetings Master Dumbledore!" The Dwarf King's deep voice echoed through the room from his place at the head table. It was quite the adjustment going from the well-lit earth rooms to the very dark and dimly lit rooms of the Dwarven palace. "Come, join us," the king gestured to the empty seat at the table.

"I do hope that I have not missed anything too exciting?" Dumbledore said with a touch of mirth.

"Nothing overtly pertinent. The enemy army is still three days march away from our gates, and Master Potter has been most helpful in devising traps and defenses for us." Hadrian again had to stop himself from laughing as his mentor turned a most particular shade.

"We have only three days to prepare then," Dumbledore said collecting himself, returning to the unflappable colossus that the ICW and Wizengaumt both knew and feared.

"If I may, Deep Lord, a quick summary of our current plan of attack." The Dwarfen Lord seated across from Albus spoke passing Albus several scrolls depicting various battle plans, formations, and points of attack.

"We find ourselves in an unprecedented situation. While the Illithid are aware of our new long-distance defense, they will not be aware of the effect this will have on our ability to control the magic cast inside of the Mythal of the Dwarf Lords. Our current plan of attack is to allow them to breach a set of false gates, luring them into a kill zone, then cut them off from their Elder Brain." The Dwarven Strategist, one of the few Dwarven Sorcerer, an Orodûm.

The Orodûm were the last Dwarven sorcerers, ancient and few in number, genetic anomalies, guarded and hidden, protected at all costs. Nearly all Dwarves Hadrian had found had their magic turned inwards, making them notoriously hard to effect with Magic, the only reason the Illithid had not devoured them all, yet in gaining this protection, they had lost the inbuilt ability to channel magic like the Orodûm of old. The Orodûm were the guardians of the Dwarven history, lore, their very names meaning fate, something unavoidable.

"Remember one thing, this be our only chance to use this strategy. One mindflayer sees ye, and they all see. One mind. One nasty, suspicious mind," an older dwarf lord cautioned.

"We will need to get as many of them into the cavern before we activate the Magic control, it is one of our only chances to draw their forces out. There is a good chance that the separation from the Elder brain will drive them insane. If any remain outside the Mythal, they will transfer all that we have worked hard to hide back to every other Illithid under the Elder Brain's control. Also, this will draw many more of them to us, losing such a large part of their population in an instant will surely be the cause of great alarm for them. So long as none see what we are doing that are still connected to the Elder Brain, our secret will be safe. We will be able to use this method for at least a few more attacks." The Dwarven Lords nodded their heads, Dumbledore and Hadrian realizing why the dwarves had not yet been destroyed by the seemingly unbeatable blight on their world. They were rather brilliant tacticians.

"Why would the Illithid be fooled into even engaging with us?" Hadrian said quietly.  
"We have long thought that the issue of llithid attacks on Dhemdarum were more than simple attacks, they are seeking something, sending small parties of Illithid to attack and test our borders." This dwarf Hadrian noted was bald with a thin beard, sharp eyes, and daggers, strapped to his chest and hips, a hunter then.

"It was only the recent attack where the Illithid used the power of the Many Tentacled One that we came to understand the situation a little better."

"When problems arise, or the mindflayers wish to discover some secret, they form "inquisitions", a team of mindflayers. Each mindflayer uses its own talents and abilities to achieve the inquisition's goal. It is not unreasonable to think that the many small forces of Illithid that we have slain were inquisitions with the way they attempted to stealthily infiltrate the city. However, when a situation is too large for just an inquisition to handle, the mindflayers put together a "cult". A cult was much larger than an inquisition and is always spearheaded by two mindflayers, powerful ones, normally _too powerful" _

"_What was the Mindflayers motivation then?" _Albus enquired.

"We are hoping to find out. But I think it is clear that what we are dealing with is far more dangerous than what we thought, the Illithid are not known for their peaceful ways. It seems that the main machinations are due to a cult of Illithid."

"If we are in fact dealing with a cult, we must understand their purpose. For it is surely in our own best interests to know our enemies intent," a red-headed Dwarf growled in agreement.

"Our only chance will be, assuming the success of our plan, to immediately after we cut off the Illithid from their Elder brain, to send a group to eliminate the cultists and gather what information they can on the cults intention, and hopefully the location of the Elder Brain," Hadrian gazed, his face obscured by the shadows that his cowl cast on his face, his green eyes glowing electric power and killing curse as his mind worked in overtime trying to put together the pieces of what the Dwarves were saying.

"This will require the utmost stealth and secrecy on our parts, but for the first time in decades, we find ourselves in a position of advantage," the Dwarven Lord with deep black hair responded in a deep rumble.

"My Lords, how can we be of service, we have some preparations of our own that will take the better part of a single day, other than that, we would be honored to help however you think best." Hadrian volunteered. The Orodûm leaned forward, his eyes having a strange neon orange ring around them appeared as if they contained a glowing ember inside.

"We are grateful for your presence and willingness to aid us. We have several different missions that you could potentially lend your service to. As I am sure you heard, the first stage of our plan is to kill as many of the Illithid and their forces as we are able to in the immediate, set the enemy back, confuse them, after we will take the fight to them. If we are in fact dealing with a cult, knowing why and what their goal is essential, there is also the matter of the lair of the Elder Brain. Once we gather the information we will attack the Elder brain, eliminating it and the Illithid who are under its control, alone Illithid are little threat, they are too arrogant to truly work together to any end without the dominating power of their Elder brain."

"Do you know where the Elder Brain is located?" Albus asked, a knowing glint in his eye.

"Very astute sorcerer. We do not know its locations. However, the current force of Illithid and their army, each of their lairs have information to their elder brains. It will be dangerous, but if we can take it, we will be able to lay siege on the main lair." The Orodûm replied.

"What is the makeup of the Illithid army? The Library mentioned several kinds of beings. None were familiar to me."

"Another good question Master Potter, long have the Dwarves been harrowed by the Illithid, mindflayers, masters of the Mind Magics." The Orodûm casually placed his hand on a stone table, its surface though still solid under the arms of those in attendance, rippling under the Orodûm's will, at the center of the table, the stone began swirling and rose into an ambiguous figure, small, only around two feet standing, was what appeared to be a cross between an Illithid and a small rock gnome, its legs were gnarled and grey, wrinkling in a way that was wholly unappealing. Its head was that of an Illithid, a pathetic broken Illithid, but an Illithid nonetheless, it appeared more stone than creature, though Hadrian suspected that could do with how the Orodûm's magic was working.

"Mozgriken are their spies, they are intelligence gatherers, not soldiers, the result of ceremorphosis, when an Illithid tadpole consumes the head of another creature, in this case, a gnome, they are weak, if you see one, eliminate it, for it will surely report back everything that it sees and more." Again the stone shifted, forming something that Hadrian had to stop himself from recoiling from. It was an Eye, one that had attached to it, chunks of flesh that formed tentacles.

'Do you not feel the power its very image evokes, Albus?'

'I do. It is not something that I would have either of us face.'

'On that, we can agree.'

"As the Illithid are beyond the range of the Elder Brain, Telepathic communication is maintained by _Mind Witnesses_, they are to put it frankly, massive floating Eyes with tentacles that will devour your brain, perhaps the most powerful Mind magicians of the foot soldiers. The Mind Witnesses are able to improve and accelerate telepathic communication, since they are capable of maintaining a telepathic link with up to thirty of their Illithid brethren simultaneously." Hadrian had no desire to ever see this monstrosity, this mind witness was no doubt unspeakable, for he even with his defenses felt the pull of insanity staring at its very image.

The stone now resembled a lobster, one with tentacles flicking here and there from its craven maw.

"_Uchuulons_ have slimy and mucus carapaces and sluggish movements. But their use is not in any psionic ability, nor in any magic, they can do. They were Physically fairly weak, but their power lie in their ability to constantly excrete a mucus, a single drop enough to paralyze a dwarf." Again the stone morphed leaving a figure standing on the table. One humanoid figure, with four fingers on each hand, and a head that would not be inappropriate on an octopus, tentacles surrounding their mouths, its fingers were long and knobby, there could be no doubt what these were. Illithid.

"There will, of course, be a large number of Illithid, able to wield their psionic powers to kill most of their weaker foes before it even comes to a physical engagement. Though there are many who will wield weapons, the Illithid soldiers are not anything special in terms of martial prowess, it is their psionic abilities that we must be wary of. " The stone Illithid slumped back into the table, remolding itself into something far more regal than the Illithid had been. The creature stood taller, its robes finer than the Illithids even in the stone depiction.

"A few Ulitharid will be amongst the host, they are Illithid royalty, one is worth a hundred of their weaker more common brethren, their powers are terrifying, but they are few and far between, they will be the ones in charge of the cult, the ones who know anything of note. I can not impress upon you enough that theirs is a harsher, more spiteful temperament than other mindflayers, they wield mind magics like you or I breath. They have many fel powers, magic that is meant to dominate the mind. The especially powerful ones have even been known to have the ability to create dimensional doors." Hadrian and Dumbledore looked up from where they had been staring at the Ulitharid depiction on the table.

'I am glad that we had the foresight to protect our connection, Hadrian. It would have been most unfortunate had we realized the danger we are in now rather than when we had the time to do something about it. Even then, I am wary of entering battles on a scale and with a magical presence that none in our world has seen in a thousand years.'

'We have little choice. We need to find our way to Alfheimr, this is the way. We must persevere.'

'I cannot help but wonder my friend, _who_ will return to our ordinary world after this.'

* * *

Hadrian stood in front of Albus in their expanded trunk. Between them two bottles. The two Memoriastum that the Goblin Nation had provided them. One on wielding blades, and the other staves.

"Tell me Hadrian do you know what we will sacrifice if we drink these?" Albus asked Hadrian gravely.

"Do _you_ want to wade into a battle against more of the unspeakable than any has borne witness to in generations, In the realm of Svartalfheimr uneducated in the ways of martial prowess?" Dumbledore's brows creased.

"Of course not, but Memoriastum are outlawed for a reason, Hadrian." Dumbledore's eyes lacked the normal sparkle, instead, they glowed with a rolling power, like the bottled power of a ley line. "Need I remind you that drinking from that will rob you of the ability to learn the use of any other weapon. You will never have any martial prowess beyond that which you possess now, your magic and the use of Bladed weapons, and I stave. You are young, are you so willing to give up the possibility of growth for mastery in something in the short term," Dumbledore's fingers were steepled as he looked across the table. The two men staring at one another pensively.

"Tell me, professor, after the Nightmare Realm, were you not certain of our doom? Were you not ready to bear this alone because of what it would cost me. Tell me, are we not alive? More alive than we have ever dreamt. You stand in the realm of Svartalfheimr, in the Hall of a Deep Lord, in the Dwarven City of Dhemdarǔm about to wage war on the Illithid to journey to Álfheimr, do you feel that since we have not learned the arts of something like soothsaying, that your life is lacking? Does it diminish what you have when you lack something you never had in the first place?" Hadrian drummed his fingers against the table.

"Hadrian, I do understand that, but this, this is a slippery slope, you already know that knowledge does not mean skill. All of this, sacrificing our abilities to learn any other Martial weapon, and we may prove no better than we previously were, knowledge is not skill. Ask yourself _is it worth it?" _Albus' voice held a hint of something Hadrian had not seen the man show before, anger.

"You saw as well as I did what shall fall if we do not reach Álfheimr. Can you say that the loss of the ability to learn how to shoot a bow, something my wand can do far better, is worth seeing the vision we had become reality?"

"I understand your logic, Hadrian, but there is more to life than _this._ It would bring me the greatest sorrow if, at the end of this, there was no joy in what remained for you. I see your point, however, and agree, for the _greater good _as it were. " Hadrian bowed his head in acceptance of his mentor's wisdom, before lifting his brow and meeting his master's eyes. Solemnly, both men reached out, taking the crystal vials, Albus took the Memoriastum for staves and Hadrian the Memoriastum for blades, and they both threw back the potions. They tasted like steel, they knew the Memoriastum would not begin to integrate with them for several minutes, so they both stood, and moved over to the couch, sitting together in solemn mourning over what they had just sacrificed, waiting for what they knew would be an extremely painful night to end.

Twin gasps were forced from the seated men, tears rolling down their faces as the Memoriastum began flowing into their consciousness. The first memory that they experienced was the feeling of a blade piercing through their chest as they learned the first and only truth of martial knowledge, _weapons are made to kill. _

* * *

When Albus awoke, he awoke to sobs, sobs he realized were coming from his own mouth. The sheer manner in which a stave or spear could be an instrument of death was horrifying to him. He knew deep inside that no matter what he gained from the Memoriastum, no matter what prowess he now had with the Deathstick, there would be a part of him that would never forgive himself for earning it this way.

Albus stood, while his mind was fatigued, his Occlumancy was working hard to correct the scarring the forcing of millions of memories had caused on his mindscape, he knew without a doubt, Hadrian was in for a much worse time. There were things that could only be gained from experience.

Standing, Albus strode over to Hadrian and brushed the boy's fringe from his head. So young, so powerful, and yet so innocent. There was a part of Dumbledore that knew that the two were kindred spirits in more ways than the boy thought. The thrill of adventure, the immeasurable high the quest that they were currently on gave him. It was what he knew every quester felt, and what he knew destroyed more of them than it did not. But he knew that in the end, they had little choice and that they had hardly 3 days remaining until the Dwarves would need their aid in slaying the army of Illithid who would breach the cavern of Dhemdarum.

Striding towards a desk, Albus Dumbledore, began doing something he had not done in years, he began preparing spell scrolls. Spell scrolls were what they sounded like, Spells, complex ones, powerful ones that were written in a mix of runes and sigils that when read, would combust, casting the spell. It was Old Magik. Not things that the modern Witch of Wizard even thought of using. Dumbledore had seen their usefulness when he had been sent by the ICW to quell a Lich in China some seventy-odd years ago. He was, of course, proficient with Sigils and Glyphs, though they were far from his preferred manner of combat.

Still, he had learned the hard way that scrolls of healing, scrolls that summoned firestorms, scrolls that canceled magic, they were extremely simple and yet extremely valuable in the right situations.

Dumbledore and Hadrian, while they would have their trunks, in the heat of battle, or even in enemy territory, would have no way to access anything in them. It was why they both valued their smaller dimensional pockets for the storage of things that they needed handy. Things like rations, artifacts, scrolls, and potions, were needed in an instant, and if they could not be produced, they were of no use.

Sighing the Wizened Sorcerer began writing with the Deathstick, every rune perfectly formed, the ink his very magic.

* * *

Hadrian awoke to sobs, sobs he realized were coming from his own mouth. Turning over from the place that he had laid and emptied the contents of his stomach as he processed the sensation of dying to a sword in an uncountable number of ways.

"You are awake then." Albus' voice echoed through the room from his place at the mahogany desk behind them.

"I wish I was not. But it is done." Albus stood, flicking his drawn wand, cleaning the sick even as he cast a diagnostic spell on the young man in front of him.

"Indeed, you are thankfully in good health, the Memoriastum is settling into your consciousness completely. For now, may I suggest a shower, then a meal, it may be the last one you are able to have for quite a while." Dumbledore's voice reflected his own turmoil. There was no question the cost that they had paid, the experience of the seemingly infinite deaths the two had experienced was enough to affirm Dumbledore's words. The Potter memories had been nothing like this, they had felt natural, perhaps because it was their job to feel so. They were family, and what were memories if moments of time. Those memories had become part of him, a part of how he looked at the world, not separate from his own identity, his own knowledge, this, however, seemed so different.

Hadrian decided that he still had much to process and that he had already argued enough with Albus today, and found himself regretting his _victory over the man more than he wanted to admit. _

* * *

The two wizards strode across the ramparts. Rath'gar was off with the Dwarven troops preparing for the footsoldiers, it was unspoken that he was to be afforded every courtesy as he was part of their party, though the dwarven soldiers seemed wary of him until they had the chance to share a common love, violence and alcohol. The Dwarves were engineering geniuses. They would never dare to use one of the Orodûm for such a simple task as build ramparts, siege engines, traps, false gates, no, they were far too proud of what they could achieve for that. The space in front of them was the size of several quidditch fields side-by-side. Albus almost did not want to imagine the host that could fill this space.

On every side, there were forty-foot walls, walls too large to easily scale, yet tall enough to still provide the Dwarven archers an easy shot.

The two had never been to the part of the city that they currently found themselves 'outside of'. The stonework was as impeccable as the palace grounds. Every single stone, perfectly level, perfectly carved, without the presence of even a single tool-mark. The dwarves had worked day and night, and what had once been a field in front of a tunnel entrance, was now transformed into what appeared to be an interior courtyard, a simple, well-built wall creating a rather large space between the true city wall and the entrance to the tunnel where the army would apparently arrive from.

Albus found it interesting how space seemed to work in the realm of Svartalfheimr. None could judge true distance, for it seemed that all was under the Earth, but Albus could say with little doubt that they were not _quite _on Earth anymore. Whatever that levy system was, it was far from as simple as they had thought. This was no large cave under the ground, but rather an entire underground dimension. Possibly infinitely large, darker than the night could ever hope to be, and in truth filled with far more monsters than the night could ever boast.

He could feel them. Out there he supposed. Some were above, fluttering around the crystals, like moths to a flame, others were just outside the main cavern, still more he supposed _looked _like dwarves. He, like Hadrian, had yet to see any sign of the _Dark Elves_ in Dhemdarum except in the court of the King.

Conspiracies aside, Albus began to think of the things he could add to the defenses of their apparent allies that would be _productive,_ as it were_._

'Any thoughts?' Albus asked Hadrian from the rampant he was on.

'Perhaps a series of explosion hex runes running along the outer perimeter of the wall, outward-facing, they will at the least funnel more through the gate. The whole point of what we are doing is to funnel the army into the kill zone. I am just cautious of making it easier to destroy the walls then rush through the opening.'

'I think that is a good idea, while you do that, I will add some incentive to come through the gate rather than over the wall.' With a flick of his wand, Albus now held the Deathstick, and he wasted little time carving into the stone, the butt of the Deathstick sinking into the stone like it was wet clay, a very intricate illusion ward. All those who entered the area would feel their understanding of reality _change, _they would see, illusionary fire burning on the walls, fire that their minds would not allow them to cross, and behind them, they would see a void. Albus doubted anything serious would be fooled, but from what he was told, not everything was strong in mind magic, the illusion would keep a majority of the enemy where they wanted them.

Albus had insisted, to the Dwarves uncomfort, that they leave the broken stone gravel scattered around the area. He was after all a transfiguration master, every pebble became a weapon in his hands. It seemed that the Dwarves did not enjoy the sight of "a messy excuse for a dwarven entrance", though he doubted they would stay as such when Albus began using the "messiness" to annihilate their enemies.

Still, Albus recognized that the number of things that the two wizards needed to do before the enemy arrived was still seemingly as numerous as the pebbles covering the ground. Shaking his head he returned to his task, he had little time for such frivolous thoughts.

A/N::

Hello.  
Sorry it took me so long to post, I am planning on a 2-week posting schedule per chapter. It is as I suppose all posting schedules are a goal more than a fixed rule of when I will post, but I expect that I will post a day or two earlier rather than late.

You will be getting a two for one - I will be posting the next chapter soon, like before next week, as I feel that the two are best read together.

Let me know what you think, I love your comments, don't miss out on checking out the wonderful concept art I have gathered together for the story, PM me and I will send you a link.


	9. Dhemdarum Surprise (12431)

**Chapter 9: The Dhemdarum Surprise**

Neither Hadrian nor Albus were present for the Illithid's first strikes, both were busy donning their battle robes. Both had eaten, taken calming droughts, and cast their sigils. Both men's arms glowing with the sigilic bands that marked the runic sigils the two had cast. Mage Armor, Psionic cage, a litany of other defenses and shields. Dumbledore was cloaked in a black cloak, the kind of black that pulled you into it, with gold runic trimmings crisscrossing. His silvery inner robes glowing with an ethereal light.

The robes were an artifact that he had found years ago, made from pure moonlight, they were a gift that he had gained from a wandering moon god, Albus had never known the divinity's name, but had in his period after the imprisonment of Grindelwald, stumbled across being trapped in a runic prison, seeing the purity of the man's magic, Albus had helped the man, and to the man's surprise, had let him go no questions asked. It was a little known detail of some immortals, that if they were caught, their catcher would be entitled to a favor from the being. Regardless, the robe was the gift he received from the mysterious being. It was only years later that he realized _what_ the robes he had been given were.

The robes, which he had named Mondstrahl as it was in Germany that he had been given them, were made of a silvery material, that never stained, could not tear, could glow on command, no darkness could stifle its light. Had he not been scared of so obviously using an artifact in public, Mondstrahl would have proven massively useful against Voldemort. But here in the Realm of Svartalfheimr, there was no reason why he could not use what he had. Besides his belt of holding, the rest of his garb had only enchantments, strong enchantments, but enchantments were not much when compared with the artifacts he wielded.

The Resurrection stone hung from his neck, its presence and power comforting it a bit cold. The chain of black metal ending in glowing silver triangles. They were like caps, between them, floating casually was the Resurrection Stone. There was no doubt, the Deathstick was powerful in its own way, but the Resurrection Stone was unique. The ability to truly resurrect the dead was one that was not beyond one who mastered the Stone. Though, Albus suspected, that in most cases those who had a desire to do something so against the nature of _death_ would never master the stone.

Feeling the coolness of the Deathstick as it elongates from its normal form as the Elder Wand, Albus felt the _options_ that he now had in how to wield it. No longer was it only a stick in his hands, good for powerful magics, and a clumsy attack here or there. Even without magic, Albus knew that the Deathstick was _happy_ over his newfound capacity to wield it with prejudice.

Hadrian was dressed no less grandly, the Arcanists' robes as he had called them were dignified, a tight cut, the royal blue robes Hadrian had found in the Potter vault, made from some unknown material were no less powerful than his own, made by a Potter, that only Hadrian remembered, the robes were a work of art, their very threads being runic script. He had around his neck the Eye of the Jotuun, which glowed a faint blue in the darkness of Dhemdarum, he too wore the charged Darhain cuff, and a belt of holding, unlike Dumbledore, Hadrian didn't have the luxury of one hundred years of experience, nor one hundred years to accidentally gather the artifacts that he now had on.

Rath'gar was wearing shining goblin armor, the seemingly crude goblin runes glowing an angry red, the crown on his headset with a ruby that glowed a similar sanguine. Both the Wizards had extended the goblin Prince as much protection as they were able, for, in the likelihood that they were surrounded, it would be Rath'gar who saved them. The goblin had not spent much time with the two men, devoting his time to the forges, enjoying his conversations with the Dwarven master smiths, and in the training pits with the warriors. Whatever time he had left was spent in the taverns or libraries. The prince was a man of few words, or so it seemed.

His musings were ended as the tower bells rang. Shaking the others out of there reverie as well. It was time then. This would be testing for them both. Rath'gar joined the two as they all rushed for their positions. Both Albus and Hadrian had drawn their hoods, their faces and features obscured by the magic of the hoods that they had donned. It would do them little favor to be more overt than necessary about their race.

As the three stumbled onto the parapet where they were stationed, Hadrian was stunned as he was assaulted by the _noise._ Screeching, all manner of sounds, ravaging his ears, something all three had forgotten to protect. Dumbledore gritted his teeth and twisted his hand, one of the lights dotting one of the several glowing cuffs around his hand dying out, unnoticed as the small party of three sighed in relief as their ears, eyes, and mouths were protected.

The cacophony no longer piercing their minds, they looked out in what an observer would say was horror. The caves were already dark, only illuminated by the naturally glowing Magic crystals and the like that populated the walls and ceilings of the gargantuan cavern. The glowing fauna and the torches the only light beyond it. The Army in front of the newly made trap gate was massive.

Hadrian looked out at the army in front of them, it was massive. The dwarven defenses already triggering, firing mechanized balistas and the like into the ranks of deformed monstrosities that his dark vision could barely make out. True dark vision and the facsimile that magic gave you were vastly different. But Hadrian had more senses than just his eyes, and his time in Svartalfheim had taught him much about using them.

Flicking Eldingr, held his wand loosely in his hands. They were not supposed to use magic until the Mythal blocked the Mindflayer's magic, the Orodûm were rarely seen in battle, it was considered too great of a risk to all of Dwarvendom to lose an Orodûm, and so the only time one present in a battle is when an entire Orodû guard was present, a guard that was significantly larger than even the royal guard. Using magic would give the Illithids the hint that something was wrong.

Strangely, the dwarves did not waste manpower on luring the Illithid into the Killzone, instead, they sent what Hadrian, Rath'gar, and Albus thought were robots. Automatons, a nearby dwarf lord explained, you can not mind control or devour what has no mind in the first place.

The ground _rolled_ with the sheer number of miniature brain things that slimed towards the wall. Hundreds falling to arrows and bolts, but for every one that fell, another three took their place. Barreling their way through their own ranks, at least twenty thirty-foot _Uchuulon_s smashing through the veritable sea of Intellect devourers, large brains with legs whose presence would drive a man insane, and whose touch would consume them.

The carpet of dog-sized brains smashed into the wall of automatons that the Dwarves had sent out in an arc around the gateway. The Automatons' weapons flashing as chunks of Greymatter flew into the air, the main ability to telepathically cripple the enemy defeated by the dwarf's lack of conscious defenders.

Hadrian watched as the Uchuulons slow movement forward eventually carried them to the front ranks of the Automatons, where they made short work of the automaton defenders. Hadrian watched as from the darkness, the true Illithid army stepped into the relative light of the cavern. It seemed that their plan was working.

Albus and Hadrian sat, conserving their energy as they watched the Uchuulons wait in front of the gate, for the Illithid force to make their way forward and give the command to break it down, the grey-colored crustacean-looking monsters, the thing of nightmares even from four quidditch pitches away.

The Illithid force was larger than Hadrian had dreamed, he had never seen and had no way to contemplate _thousands_ of enemies. Anything beyond thirty was something beyond what he could really understand. The Draugr he had faced not even six months ago were insignificant compared to the sheer power of psionic power he could feel pressing against his defenses.

The dwarves hiding behind the walls, ready with their crossbows, tensed. And suddenly a single voice echoed through their minds.

/ Break it down! Take the city of Dhemdarum./ It was the voice of what Hadrian and Dumbledore suspected was the elder brain, a whisper in the wind, but still, it echoed like it was said all around you, the dwarves around them, gripping their heads as the elder brain's voice echoed through their minds, for there were only so many that Albus and Hadrian could protect without spreading themselves too thin, so they had opted to only protect a few of the lords, and the one hidden Orodûm who had insisted against the wishes of every single dwarf lord at the meeting to witness the battle.

Hadrian and Albus stood ready their wands brandished both behind the pillars they were hidden behind until their image would no longer instantly be transmitted to the elder brain.

The entire army rushed into the enclosure, leaving a good several hundred feet between the last of the Illithid troops, and the cavern mouth. Every magical felt more than noticed the change, a flat shimmering was the only hint that the cavern and its mouth were now separated physically, and psychically. Then the screaming began. Most of the Illithid, especially their monsters, they had never been without the touch of the elder brain, and now faced with solitude were driven mad.

Clenching splaying his hand, Hadrian pulled up his control glyph, and with a gesture, triggered the trap. The wall blossoming into a raging inferno as the runes that Hadrian had drawn activated. Adding to the chaos that was occurring below. Stepping into the open, Eldingr sang with joy, a sound that was audible to those around him as Hadrian swished his wand and let loose a torrent of chain lightning with a bellow.

"Catena fulgur!" The Illithid forces seemed to freeze as they felt the pulse of raw magic and spell flickered from the ramparts spilling into the amassed mix of Intellect devourers and Illithid. They watched as their fellow mindflayers were lit up, glowing from within, connected by a continuous link of supercharged plasma, the light blinding the night creatures, Albus, Hadrian and Rath'gar's mage armor flaring over their eyes as the spell protected them from damage.

This was the reason that the other dwarves had not begun their attack. Hadrian averted his gaze, the mage armor in front of his eyes, nearly glowing white under the strange of defending his eyes from damage even as his hair and robes billowing in the waves of displaced air generated by his spell. For the blast of lightning continued, lighting up several dozen of the mindflayers before moving on to the next, chaining continuously more and more of the mindflayers, until suddenly he felt it fly off to the side, striking the stone ground and leaving nothing but afterimages.

Looming over the new scar on the cavern floor was what could only be an Ulitharid.

The green-skinned being lifted its hands, its tentacles rippling as a visible psionic pulse passed through the army, light wisps of neon green that was the energy from the psionic plane leaking into their own clearly showing the defenders who were watching that something was about to change, the one pulse was soon joined by over a dozen more, as suddenly the Illithid army righted itself. Once again part of the collective. No longer under the command of the Elder brain, but now under the command of the Ulitharid who now glowed visibly with a green aura.

Seeing the Illithid right themselves, Albus felt the stones that he was channeling his power into and with a tap of the Deathstick, he transfigured them all. Albus slammed the Deathstick into the ramparts and activated a mass transfiguration, the gravel that he had insisted be allowed to stay bending to his will. Thin razor-sharp glass needles exploded from the ground, each piece of gravel exploding into a dozen glass needles. Leaving in their wake a mist of red and green as it shredded through the unprotected joints of the crustacean-like Uchuulons and soft exteriors of the Intellect devourers. Even as the churning and shimmering cloud of glass flew towards the larger army, a mass of glinting stars, Albus felt the glass part as it approached the Illithid part of the army.

Grunting, he felt the strain as the Illithid fought the spell, using their psionics to push away the sparkling death that flew at them. Mentally cursing at the lost cause, Albus abandoned the spell, transfiguring the gravel again into several thousand stone spikes that he mass banished towards the sides of the army. He doubted that their psionics would stop physics as well as they did magic controlled by others.

The telepathic screams as it shredded into the sides of the amassed Illithid, and the flickering of several of the green wisps and the momentary screeches that followed was enough proof that while still mostly ineffective, instantaneous magic was far more effective against the creatures. Though the two wizards had done sizable damage, when it only took one Illithid to destroy you, was it really victory when you still faced two thousand of them? Still they had yet to completely eliminate the Illithid's ability to use magic, it was a test, to see what happened, the dwarven lords insisted that they run it, what was the difference between cutting the Illithid off from their brain, and cutting them off from their psionic powers completely?

The Illithid again assembled, forming ranks more or less, before charging forward. Their magic users casting fireballs that they hurled at the walls.

Albus and Hadrian intercepted as many as they could, but they were only two, and so as the first dwarf fell, so too did his brothers rise up to face their enemies, axes in hand. With a boom, the stone gate rose, and the Dwarven army marched out, their heavy footfalls on the stone floor ringing out amid the raging battle.

Hadrian and Albus nodded their head and split up, each moving to one of the arms that remained with the false gate mostly in ruins. They realized that which those who did not, were dismembered for; he who has the high-ground wins.

Albus and Hadrian fired spells carefully, a battle with friendly troops was infinitely harder to cast in. Both were accurate casters, but it was hard to throw anything truly damaging around when you are surrounded by friendly fighters who could get in the way.

'This is not going the way I expected' Hadrian's dry voice sounded in Albus' mind.

'I know. In battles of magic, we allow ourselves unconsciously to follow a vastly different set of rules than what we find ourselves forced to operate under in this melee.

'Hadrian, they are climbing the wall you are on!' Albus and Hadrian had been so focused on the battle below, and trying to help where they could, striking at closely packed groups of their psionic enemy that they had been ignoring what was happening directly below them.

His mind just processing Albus' words, Hadrian lurched back, the newly acquired Memoriastum triggering false muscle memories, and before the mindflayer that had appeared in front of him could process its surroundings, Hadrian had already separated the Illithid's cranium from the rest of its ill-begotten body.

Hadrian stared at the corpse, a shudder going through him as he remembered the feeling of being decapitated. The cruel truth of the Memoriastum. Hadrian thought that the true price of that bit of magic was the innocence of not knowing what every stroke of your blade felt like, on the other side.

He was jarred out of the feeling of sick welling in his throat as he bisected another Illithid, this one wielding two daggers, spinning to block the sword that was aiming for his kidney, even as he sliced through the Illithid's neck, leaving the creature to suffocate to death. Switching his sword to the wand he preferred it to be, Hadrian cast a calming charm on himself, feeling a sense of stillness come over him, the next several Illithid who had made it to the wall were met with cutting curses, Hadrian exchanging the protection of the sword that he was loathe to use, with his mage shield, its blue fire flaring to life, melting the sword and burning through the arm of the Illithid footsoldier that had slashed at him. Hadrian felt slight anger over the side effects of the Memoriastum, what use was magically-attained mastery of a weapon whose use fills you with horror and sickness. Flicking his wand, Hadrian summoned a whip of lightning, flicking his wand several times, Hadrian again found himself alone. The battle raging around him, a steadily growing circle of wall-climbing Illithid cum corpses his only company.

* * *

Albus flinched as he withdrew the Deathstick from the fourth Illithid he had killed in that way, his own stomach clenched in sympathy pain. Flicking his stick, Albus blasted five Illithid from the rampart, the wall they were falling form exploding into spikes. Feeling their souls leave their bodies as they hit the ground, crushing their fragile bones.

Magic was a strange mistress, she had a price for every single thing that she gave. It was when something looked free that one should be the most cautious. Driving his staff into the air, the surrounding air around Dumbledore combusted, all but two Illithid burning to a cinder in his firestorm. Lifting his staff, Dumbledore took two steps back even as the flames washing against the Ulitharid's mage armor variant fizzled out, the source of their existence cut short. The other Illithid made short work of by a well-placed gravel spike transfigured from a pebble the Ilithid had been standing on the other Illithid, the creature's soul cut even before it fell off of the ramparts. The other Ulitharid shrieked in anger.

/Your secrets shall be mine, Sorcerer. I am sure your brain will bring a new rise to the might of the Illithid empire./

The fel voice far sweeter and smoother than the likes of Lucius Malfoy could hope to emulate, the voice was like a caress of his mind, but Albus knew the truth, the only thing the monster in front of him was caressing was his next meal.

/You will find, creature, you are not the only telepath here/ Albus' legilimency probe caused the creature's beady eyes to widen, and then a shiver ran through the creature's face tentacles. Albus realized it was laughing.

/A mortal that can _speak the noble tongue? How interesting./ _Albus realized his mistake, as the creature's eyes flashed green, and the world around him melted. Illusion magics had been the chosen favorite of an unspeakable that he had worked with in his youth, he or she had proven then and there that illusion magic was no lesser craft. The world fell away, Albus balanced on a crag, the army, the battle, Dhemdarum all but gone, replaced by an abyss, empty and black, the stone he stood on and the UIitharid the only two points of reality in the dark void that the Ulitharid had dragged his consciousness to. The Ulitharid's octopus-like face was pale, a greenish tint, that was contrasted by the green glow in its beady eyes. Its tentacled maw rolled in anticipation of its conquest.

Albus closed his eyes, when he reopened them, they too glowed with turquoise fire. The fire illuminated his true location. Hogwarts, or perhaps more relevantly, his memory palace that looked like Hogwarts.

The Headmaster's mage sight activated, his magic extended. So powerful was the illusion of the Ulitharid though that he could no more see with his mage sight than he could with his own eyes. Clicking his wrists together, the wizened sorcerer took a page out of Hadrian's book. A ring of fire igniting itself in a circle around him. In his many years, he had found his affinities, though his first choice was always transfiguration, it was as Hadrian would call it a wizard's magic, and in the face of such dangers, a wizard's magic was naught but the cheap tricks of conjurers. There was a reason why the Wizards hid from such true magic, it was powerful, raw, and more significantly, _scary. _Dumbledore knew that against any mortal foe, he would easily snuff their presence out of existence in his own mind, but he doubted it would be so easy against a foe like the one who stood calmly on the Black Lake, the water no more an obstacle for him then the occlumency barriers that the creature had just ignored.

Albus greatly suspected that the creature was free to pass freely into the minds of even ones such as him, but would be unable to see anything without encountering and having to break apart the mental barriers that the creature had passed.

'Hadrian?' for the first time, there was no response from his young friend. There was nothing. Complete silence. He thought to try again, but it seemed his uninvited guest had finished looking around.

/Ah Midgard. How pitiful, I shall enjoy bringing my lord's reach to every corner of your plane./

/I think you shall find mindflayer, that I am far more tenacious prey than the likes of you has ever encountered./ Albus' disgust and feelings for the creature passed through his telepathic communication far better than words could ever hope to convey, the creature screeched. A sound made the sigils protecting his mind and ears glow so hot that they cut through the vision a bit, working overtime to prevent his doom.

Done waiting, the Ulitharid exploded, a swirling green haze, no longer were they standing on the lake and banks respectively, but from every surface grew a forest of vines, curling, writhing, made of every manner of material, glancing down, he noticed even the grass was no longer what it seemed, the little vines, sticking slightly to his booted feet. No, Dumbledore realized with a shudder, not snakes, tentacles. Albus did not stutter as he began his firestorm, one that he hoped would cleanse his mindscape of the horror that now stalked _his _halls.

/Ignis tempestas/ Albus swished his wand over his head, this was _his _mind, and he was more than a little angry at how easily it had been violated.

/Flood/ The voice of the Illithid sounded everywhere, the echoes, ringing from all sides. The black lake bubbled, exploding, sweeping Albus away in the torrent of water that it produced, The Giant Squid, erupting from the flooding lake. No not the squid, the head of the Ulitharid. Its mouth opened, and suddenly, Albus felt terror. The likes that he had felt when in the Nightmare realm. The likes he had felt in his youth, as the Ulitharid, the lakes ever-rising, began consuming the very fabric of his mind. It was just a corner, really nothing to be concerned within the long run, but Albus had never even imagined such an outcome. His first interaction, his first direct combat, and he was losing.

Suddenly, Albus gripped the Resurrection Stone, and an explosion of purple flame blossomed from him, wherever it went, the water the Ulitharid was using to batter and destroy his mind disappeared. The Elder Wand grew hot, they would not permit such harm to their master so easily. Unbidden, the wand cast its own magic.

No incantation was uttered, no movement was had, but the wand pulsed in tune with the stone, and suddenly, the Ulitharid was thrown out of Albus' mind. Dumbledore found himself upright, hand around the Resurrection Stone, the other holding the Elder Wand. The Illithid's illusion broken, Albus stood standing as they were when they had first locked eyes.

In an instant, the creature gripped its head shrieking a shriek that would haunt the other Illithid as the Ulitharid carried back to his own mind, the fire of death. His mind collapsing in a way only an Illithid could, the tens of thousands of ill-begotten memories, memories it had gained from consuming the grey matter of other sentients being returned to death as the fire of the Hallows punished one who would violate the sanctity of their master's mind.

When Hadrian had first cast his chain lightning spell, Albus had closed his eyes, and to his surprise, he had _felt _the Illithid's souls depart their bodies. It was an experience that became stronger the closer he was to the severed soul. This time, being so close, and having killed the creature with the Hallows plural, Dumbledore felt something different. His hand around the Stone of Resurrection, Albus was able to see the dead, so many dead. But unlike all of the other dead on the field of battle, the soul didn't linger by the body, severed, but instead, it seemed to emerge twisted and contorted from its now empty host body. This soul itself burned, the fire that he had unleashed in his mindscape, he could see them consume the specter of the Illithid, shrieking in agony until there was nothing left to burn.

Albus collapsed backward, suddenly weak as the strain of the attack, which had in truth happened in the time it had taken his synapses to fire but a few times, he had fought an entire battle, and now he paid the price. In those milliseconds, he had done much, and now he knew he would regret it.

'Are you alright, Albus?' Hadrian's concerned voice echoed in the momentary stillness Albus was feeling as he lay prone, not remembering how he had gotten there.

'I just had my first interaction with an Ulitharid, they are terrifying foes, Hadrian, it penetrated my occlumency like it was not even there. If not for the interference of the Hallows, I would have certainly been consumed by that monstrosity.'

'I too am now realizing the folly of not heeding your advice, Albus, the experience gained from the Memoriastum is hardly worth it if every stroke of my blade I feel _crippling _sympathy for my victims_.' _Hadrian's exacerbation was explicitly clear to his mentor, 'still, it seems that the Dwarven fighters are proving far more prodigious in their battle than we.'

Remembering himself, Albus stumbled to his feet, his near defeat at being so caught off-guard by the Ulitharid humbling him. Albus looked across the battlefield, the dwarves had hesitated in their strike on the illithid force, and though some of the field was cleared, there was still far too many enemies running around to drop his guard.

Albus reached his magic out, tracking the spells he had placed on Rath'gar, finding the goblin fighting against several enemies at the same time, and nearly overwhelmed for it. Even as the Goblin's guard fell, and the Illithid knocked the goblin prince over, Albus twisted, appearing in front of the downed goblin, slamming the Deathstick into the ground, blasting the Illithid back in a fluid movement. Looking around, Albus realized he was now on the main battleground. The open area in front of him a raging chaos of weapons, psionics, screeching, screaming, dying fighters.

Albus gazed across the field, his eyes catching several Illithid devouring the brains of the fallen dwarven soldiers, and the injured alike. It was a gruesome and horrible thing, seeing first hand how an Illithid feeds, Its tentacles suctioning to the face even as it sucked out the greymatter from the downed dwarf, whose expression of terror and horror turned in an instance to one of rapture. Albus knew there was no saving any of them, killing the Illithid would simply force the dwarf to live his last few moments in utter agony.

Albus realized his error, he needed to use something far more powerful than the magic he had been using, magic that he was _used to using,_ Ministry-approved magic. The spell came to mind unbidden, as Albus remembered a spell that he had learned from Grindelwald all those years ago, raising his wand he purposely overpowered the spell, drawing from the strength of the diamonds embedded in his Darhain Cuff,

"_Praesidio vincere diabolicam._ Protego Diabolica!" the dark black fire flew from his wand even as another light died on his sigilic band. He had used more prepared spells today than he had in four decades.

The spell was the predecessor of the age line, it was a line of fire that would only allow allies through, but incinerate any enemies. Grindelwald loved it. It was very flamboyant, and Albus knew that he would need to perform a cleansing ritual after the battle, but the man was satisfied when in a twelve-foot radius around him, black flames erupted the tip of the Deathstick casting shadows on his obscured face. Yet another band of runes winding their way around his staff. Even as he ran forward to aid a group of Dwarves that had been surrounded by a pocket of Illithid.

They didn't notice him until they heard the psychic screams of their comrades as they were burned alive by the flames of judgment, and found wanting, consumed in seconds, their bodies destroyed. The only sign of their existence the floating marker of their souls, visible only to Albus whose hand still gripped the Resurrection Stone.

'Hadrian?'

'Yes, Albus?' Hadrian's voice had an unusual strain to it.

'Are you well?' He asked cautiously, not wanting to distract the boy if he was in the middle of something.

'As well as can be expected.'

'Where are you?' A vision of what Hadrian was seeing nearly made Albus lose control of his spell. He saw himself, far in the distance facing away from where he was on the ramparts, casually killing another line of Illithid, no Ulitharid around to cause him any issues, but Albus realized with chagrin as he processed what Hadrian was seeing, that that was because the Ulitharid who was leading this group of Illithids was now standing in front of Hadrian.

'Hadrian, the enemy you face in front of you is far stronger than any we have faced yet, be wary of him, the Ulitharid I fought immediately sought and succeeded in using mind magic on me.'

'I shall take every precaution.' Albus felt Hadrian focus on the task at hand, and knew that even a single distraction would mean the boy's death.

* * *

/Your mind will be most delicious/ The Purple Illithid in front of Hadrian wore what Hadrian could only describe as light armor. Hadrian had little clue of what magic beyond the obvious could be expected from a race of psionic users. With a flourish, the Ulitharid literally crafted a sword from his mind, drawing it into the air with his fingers, then grabbing it with both of his hands, and drawing two blades, his psionic powers making it as real as any sword. The twin blades the Illithid held were more of a transparent, razor-sharp apparition spike than anything else.

Hadrian really didn't want to know what it could do to him if it touched him. Drawing Eldingr, Hadrian found himself immediately back-footed as the Ulitharid was in his face, its tentacles mere inches from his face, even as his instinctual Sigil Shield deflected the swift flurry of strikes that even with his blade training would have been too fast for his unprepared muscles and untrained reflexes to deal with.

Leaping backward, Hadrian threw his sigilic shield at the blur of a creature, the shield flying through the air, slicing an approaching and unsuspecting Illithid in half. Even as it flew through the air, returning to where it was previously floating above his hand, Hadrian was forced to block three lightning-fast strikes at his heart, liver and stomach, any one of which would have proved fatal.

Hadrian's mage armor flared to life as the psychic blade was deflected twice by Eldingr, but the third strike, the one to his left side, struck, the area glowing a violent white as the spell glowed with power as the mage armor tried to protect Hadrian from the deadly strike. The energy the magic gave off turning to heat as the magic worked overtime to prevent the blade from piercing him. The air became supercharged as Hadrian fired several bolts of Electricity from his sword, narrowly missing his assailant every time, but forcing the attacker to let up from his attacks to avoid being struck by the flurry of strikes.

Hadrian cast one of the more arcane spells he knew, there would be nothing to dodge with this one. Reaching out towards his foe, Hadrian clenched his splayed hand into a fist, pulling down into the ground, watching in satisfaction as one of the few spells that worked directly on the target, drove his enemy into the ground, where it psychically squealed in agony. More magical backlash than it had likely ever experienced crushing it with the sudden weight of twelve times the gravity of this place. Had Hadrian been in Europe, he was sure it would have attracted far too much attention. He was thankfully not in Europe.

Rasing Eldingr, Hadrian felt a charge run through the air, and had he had the ability to look at himself, he would have found himself to be quite the sight. Lightning arced around his body. His legs, his hair, and perhaps most startlingly his eyes, all glowed with bolts of the plasma. The air itself seeming to obey his command as he flickered appearing suddenly besides the dazed and captive Ulitharid, still screaming telepathically, Eldingr flickering as he separated the Ulitharid's head from its shoulders.

Looking across the battlefield, its inhabitants standing still, everything seemingly frozen as he took stock of what was happening around him. Albus was on the battlefield, having abandoned the ramparts to slay the Illithid, all of them in a several hundred-foot radius dead by his hand, the black fire surrounding him incinerating only the Illithid, but leaving all of the Dwarves alive.

Rath'gar, for his part, lay on the ground, his axe and armor slick with Illithid blood, his face sporting a bad burn that must have been from the Mage Armor, his eyes narrowed, axe buried into an unsuspecting Illithid's head.

Hadrian saw two Ulitharid moving towards the downed Goblin Prince, who despite his injuries, was still trying to fight the approaching Brainstealers. For perhaps the first time in a long time, Hadrian was filled with an emotion. one that he was unfamiliar with. Bloodlust. He flickered, his features to those that caught a glimpse of him looking positively Elvine. Dashing at a speed and with a grace that was far from what one could expect from a Wizard, Hadrian jumped from the ramparts, landing like a cat on a support beam, before jumping, and using his momentum to run _down the wall._ He saw his reflection in the pools of blood, green and red pooling together, and saw that his elven features were far more pronounced than anything that he had ever noticed before. Eldingr, and the lightning flickering around him, it was charging his body, glancing back at where Rath'gar lay, Hadrian realized there was no reason he should have been able to notice his features, the Goblin was several Quidditch pitches away, yet Hadrian could see what was becoming of his traveling companion. Not wanting to lose his chance, Hadrian ran towards the goblin, reaching him just as the two Ulitharids overpowered the Goblin and _dispelled the prince's_ mage armor. Stepping between the Ulitharid and his Goblin companion, Hadrian blasted the Ulitharids both back with a wide-angle banisher.

The Ulitharid stood strangely tall, even for the brainstealers, over Seven feet tall. What stood out to Hadrian most was their magical aura, it was like standing next to two black voids, their presence screaming of something unnatural. The one on the right was cloaked in bright red robes, its gnarled four-fingered hands holding a black staff made of a spine. Hadrian's eyes narrowed as he noted the Ulitharid's staff was made of a black metal that he had only seen once before. A spine made of a material that Hadrian and Albus had brought back with them from the Nightmare realm. Bloodiron, a material that was only found in Hell.

The second Ulitharid, the one in black armor made of plates of the bloodiron wore a red cape from his shoulders, seemed out of place as he carried no weapon that they could see. Both of the Ulitharid wore armor far finer than what the other Ulitharid were wearing. The two Ulitharid's eyes glowed a fiery orange, flames leaking out of their blackened eyes.

_Ta bidniig Gorzoth zovlong kharj baina. We see you, doom of Gorzoth._ Their words were spoken softly, but the demonic seemed to echo in every single mind on the battlefield. The rather one sided slaughter ceased in an instant, as the Illithid looked around in crazed _awe _and the Dwarves in _terror._

_Nögöö ni khaana baina? Nögöö aluurchin. Where is the other? The other slayer._ Realizing Albus was nowhere to be seen, Hadrian stepped forwards.

/I was alone./

Ta bidend khudlaa yaridag gej üü? You presume to lie to us? The two possessed Ulitharid seemed to glower as a sickly red glow encompassed them. Runes, in _demonic, _the sight of which would have driven Hadrian and the horrific Rath'gar mad were it not for the soul magic that they had all cast.

_Bid Dörövdügeer toirgiin ezen Gorzotyn etseg Gaazuulyn Kamyerat ba Lortiamusyn deslegch nar yum. We are Camerath and Lortiamus lieutenants of Gaazu'ul father of Gorzoth lord of the Fourth Circle._

_Khuuramch baidal ni mönkh bus baidald khürgekhgüi. Deceit will not avail you mortal. _Hadrian lurched back. Demons of the Fourth Circle. What were they doing here.

'Keep them talking Hadrian, I am coming as fast as I can.' Albus and he had agreed before the battle, to only use telepathy for emergencies, there was no saying what risks overuse could create in the tumultuous battle they found themselves in.

/What are you doing here? How are you here? /

_Minii üildlüüdiig aluurchid mini anzaaragdakhgüi baikh gej ta bodoj baisan uu? Yamar ch Tam tanyg khaigaad baidaggüi bögööd khemjeest tamga ni bidniig öörsdiigöö irekhed l zogsoochikhdog, nögöö talaas tsoorolt ni ürgelj songolt baidag. Did you think that your actions would go unnoticed Slayers of my lords progeny? No, Hell is searching for you, and you will find that the dimensional seal only stops us from coming ourselves, possession on the other hand is and has always been an option. _The eyes of the two demon lieutenants glowed brighter as if to affirm their control over their hosts, the smell of brimstone permeating the air.

_Odoo ta zailshgüi khiikh yostoi khugatsaag khoishluulakhyg ermelzej baina uu, esvel ta bidnii tölövlösön daalgavryg etsest ni biyelüülekhiig zövshöörökh üü? Now do you seek to delay the inevitable further, or will you allow us to finally erase the mistake of your existence from our presence? _It seemed they had known from the beginning. They were letting him stall. Were they that fearless, he and Albus had killed Gorzoth, surely a lord of the _Fifth _Circle in the Nightmare realm was stronger than two possessed Ulitharid.

His confidence slowly growing, Hadrian decided to attempt to end this quickly. Eldingr slipping into his hand even as he slashed at the two Demon-Ulitharid in front of him. To their credit neither of them were even singed as the wave of lightning was deflected by the _magic-wielding _of the two, a dark rift swallowing his attack whole, another appearing behind him, his own torrent of lightning striking Hadrian in the back.

Hadrian's mouth opened in an open scream as he felt _power flowing into him. _Power that he pushed into his Darhain Cuff. Row after row of Diamonds, each one glowing a blinding white as it was charged nearly instantaneously by the flow of lightning, created shafts of light that erupted like lasers from his wrist, casting the shards of light across the field, glinting brightly with their own inner light.

The Ulitharid stepped back as the air smelled of ozone. Hadrian burst into motion. Closing the distance between them, Eldingr growing mid-step to its true form even as bolts of lightning trailed behind him as he moved towards his prey. Lightning and magic fueling his muscles, Hadrian moved faster than he had ever been capable, aiming to eliminate the mage before it had a chance to cast any fel magic. His initial strike at its head was blocked by its mage shield, which glowed white even as it screamed in pain as it felt the backlash burn, a stripe, across its eye. Hadrian had not doubted for a minute that the Ulitharid, noble devourer that it was, would be without such basic protections, and had aimed carefully. The swipe passing over one of its eyes, the armor's backlash popping his eye as it melted under the intense heat that deflecting the strike had generated.

The possessed Ulitharid screamed, clawing at its ruined eye, even as Hadrian was forced to lean back as the armored Ulitharid stepped forward to defend its fellow lieutenant, blocking three of his lightning-fast attacks with bars of stone that erupted from the ground.

With a flick of his wrist, Hadrian banished the still prone Ulitharid several dozen meters away even as he turned to face the remaining Ulitharid, its cephalopod-like face twisted into what Hadrian assumed was anger.

/So am I fighting _Camerath or Lortiamus?/ _Hadrian felt the twinge of anger at his lack of respect for what the creature assumed itself to be his better.

_Shudarga bus mönkh bus baidal, ömnö ni tany orshikhui zügeer l doromjlogddog baisan bol odoo uurlaj baina. _Insolent mortal, before, your existence was simply humiliating, now it is enraging. Prepare to die at Camerath's sword The demon's dark speech echoed through the cavern, ringing out, clear and yet at the edge of their consciousness, its rage palpable. Hadrian noticed that the air around the demon seemed to be heating up, if the heat waves distorting the air were any indication that was.

The demon reached his hand out, holding his three-fingered palm down, the metal gauntlet's sharp nail-like points forming a sinister figure as Hadrian noted a small spark and a small sigil form on its palm. The Illithid lifted his arm, and from the ground of the cavern rose a sword, one wreathed in fire, made of pure white material, it looked in some ways similar to Eldingr, but it was clearly not his trusty artifact.

There were several noticeable differences, the blade was made out of an amalgam of metals that made it appear that there were flames inside of the metal itself. The crossguard appeared to be flames immortalized in metal. But more than anything, it was the presence that the sword gave off that gave Hadrian pause. He had never encountered another weapon quite like Hadrian's Eldingr, or Albus' Deathstick, but he should have suspected the existence of others. The sword appeared to be larger than what a man should be able to carry, but Hadrian reminded himself, that what stood before him was no man.

Heat rolled off of the crimson clad warrior's sword, the Ulitharid tightened his grip on the floating blade, and with a pulse that messed Hadrian's hair, was bathed in a churning inferno of crimson fire. The fire that now shrouded the possessed fiend was unnaturally red.

_Tany shüüsiig tamyn tamyn khücheer avakh yostoi. _The taint that is your existence shall be cleansed with the might of hell fire. No longer was the Illithid visible, on whatever qualified as the things brow was a helm, one that was without a doubt a source for nightmares if Hadrian needed another. The helm was made of bloodiron, and made his head hurt when he looked at it too carefully it would make fighting the demon _difficult. _

Hadrian sucked in a large breath, and then let it out slamming his foot into the ground and leaping into the air, a shroud of crackling lightning trailing behind him. Even as his enemy moved to close the gap with inhuman speed.

With a shriek their swords clashed. Lightning raging against fire. Their auras meeting in an explosive clash as the divine lightning clashed against the fire, creating a shockwave that would have blasted Rath'gar further away had it not been for the distance Hadrian had put between them with his actions.

The two struck, testing. A dance, but where while one day Hadrian could claim to be _Camerath's _superior, today was not that day, for every strike, Hadrian could feel his mind struggling to process the million ways to respond. It had been too soon after taking the Memoriastum to expect a mastery over the craft, it had not disseminated enough to be as much use as it would be later on, and he was paying the price. His body was ill-equipped to use the mastery his mind had attained, and it was showing.

Slowly at first, every strike was becoming a bit more clumsy, muscle fatigue he realized. Pushing magic into his straining muscles, he pushed them onwards. He would pay the cost for his actions later, for now, he had to fight. He blocked the thrust at his chest, moving his left hand to flicker his Mage shield into being, a shield-size sigil blossomed into being, its faintly-glowing gossamer threads, easily deflecting the sword, even as his own thrust forward. The blow was a good one, but the armor did its job, and not even mithril could penetrate blood iron with such a glancing blow.

Three flicks of his wrist, had three spells cast at Hadrian's enemy, even as he riposted the two swift strikes to his neck and jugular, striking back to little avail as Camerath tried to surprise him. Deflecting a swift stroke to the left, Hadrian locked blades with his enemy. He could hear the creature's vile breath and feel the menace dripping off of his adversary.

Fear grasped him as the crimson-cloaked Camerath twisted, disarming him, Eldingr flying some way away even as the Demon went for the killing stroke. Realizing that he was out of options, and knowing that Eldingr would return to him a few moments too late. Hadrian stretched his hands out, the fiery blade mere inches away and he _pulled on the magic in the Dahrain Cuffs,_ burning through the first one then two then three of his prepared spells as he _reclaimed_ the magic in them fueling them through his body, lightning erupting from his hands with a scream. He felt his mage armor grow white hot in an instant as it worked overtime to stop the wandless magic from ripping his hands to shreds. The lightning was erupting in torrents from his hands, it slammed into Camerath blasting the demon backward before it had time to make any evasive moves. The demon had managed to catch most of the lightning on the blade of his sword, and it looked like the blade was absorbing the torrents of sky-fire into it. The sword glowing brightly as the demon inclined his head up, still being struck by the errant bolt of lightning, and shouted.

_Shatakh_. Burn And suddenly, Hadrian felt himself in a maelstrom of fire. Everything was washed away from his sight, the fire enveloping him and everything around him. He began to feel the heat, and to his shock, saw that the mage armor was holding most of the fire back, but he could feel the uncomfortable heat on his body as the mage armor's use of energy generating heat. This was bad. If he dispelled the armor off, he would be burned to a crisp, and if he did not, he would be broiled alive. This was certainly a rather large issue.

Hadrian called Eldingr, to him, and felt a feeling of peace wash over him. He cast a cooling charm. It was immediately snapped by the maelstrom that moved like Apep the Eternal Chaos Serpent around him. Hadrian could feel the heat becoming uncomfortable.

'ALBUS! HELP'

'Hadrian, I am in no position to help anyone or anything at the moment, you are on your own.' Albus was clearly dealing with his own crisis as he couldn't remember the man ever sounding so strained.  
Hadrian tried running, but no matter how fast or how far he ran, there was no escape from the infernal flames.

The heat was stifling and Hadrian was at a loss. He knew no mortal magic could snuff out or survive the onslaught of what he was currently facing, he needed more time. Suddenly it clicked, and even as his mage armor seemed to start splintering, the draw on his magic and the sensation of his skin blistering under the heat generated by the backlash of the mage armor failing nearly making him shout in agony, Hadrian reached out and grasped his pendant. The pendant that he knew so little about; the Eye of the Jotuun.

The second he touched it, drawing a deep breath even as he began pushing what would normally be a large amount of magic into the icy orb to activate it, he felt the orb keep consume his magic, it was pulling magic from him, more and more, diamond after diamond of his Darhain cuff going dark as he used it to refill the huge amount of magic the orb was taking until, suddenly it stopped, and he felt the world freeze.

At first, it was slow, then it slowly gained momentum. He glowed blue, his eyes no longer the fiery green, that he had gotten from his _Amilessë, _nor the electric blue they turned when he truly channeled the Lightning element, but instead his eyes glowed the color of the deepest of freezes. A blue that any of the Jotuun would recognize.

Ice magic exploded from him. In that moment of connection with the Eye, Hadrian felt _it, and it_ felt foreign. It did not feel right, not like Eldingr. It was like the Eye liked him, indulged him for some other purpose, that Hadrian entertained it. Still, Hadrian supposed if it kept him alive, he would permit it to treat him a bit like a pack mule, at least until he understood it better.

This time, unlike when he normally used it, the Eye of the Jotuun did not freeze time, for there was something it _wanted_ to freeze far more. It seemed that the Eye looked on such fires as the ones he found himself in as it's true enemy, and he felt it deep within himself that the pendant was _joyful _at the opportunity to snuff out this fire. It was one of the strangest things. He had begun to understand the _sky fire_ he normally wielded, its fleeting power, more concentrated than any fire, but nearly instantaneous in its manifestation and de-manifestation. Hadrian did not understand this cold.

It thrummed as it cloaked him, its power cocooning him and covering the ground around him in what he was sure was _permafrost. _It was the frost-that-never-thaws in Jotuun, and it was sweeping out, the ground becoming layered with a thick sheet of the burning cold ice.

Suddenly Camerath flickered into view, the flames the two were surrounded by no less strong, but just ineffectual in the face of Hadrian's _chilling_ aura. He felt the touch of the Eye as it begged to be allowed to use him to channel its power.

Hadrian realized if the touchy artifact didn't get what it wanted, he was likely dead. For he knew no magic that would save him from this demonic fire. He pushed his acceptance to the Eye and it hummed. But Hadrian did not expect Eldingr to pulse as well. His eyes frosting over, Hadrian felt his conscious fall to the back, his magic and his body vessels for the might of the Frozen Eye.

Hadrian felt ice travel through his veins, a cold like he had never experienced rooting itself in him, painful around the thrum of his magic. Then the Eye did its work.

* * *

Albus rushed towards Hadrian, burning through the Illithid in his way, a fire whip, slashing any who sought escape. Suddenly a figure crashed into the ground in front of him.

Gorzoth ni aluurchin. Slayer of Gorzoth The possessed Ulitharid's eyes glowed violently. uulzatsgaaya. I see you.

The creature stood up and Albus found himself staring at the glowing red eyes of the possessed Ulitharid. Even as it struck out with its mind, Albus was ready.

"_Occultatum animo," _Albus' spell had seemingly no effect, but the Ulitharid reeled back, confused. Occultatum Animo was a rather arcane spell, that hid the mind from all others. Albus had once asked his mentor Nicholas why more people didn't use it, and why they even bothered with Occlumancy in the first place, to which his old mentor had responded by explaining the strain. What the spell functionally did was hide the mind in such a way that the mind and the surrounding telepathic flow became indiscernible so the probe would never have anything to latch on to. What it also did was force the mind to join the greater telepathic dimension, thus risking the complete loss of identity and self as your mind is convinced that it is part of the greater, and thus becomes such. Still, when you were hopelessly outmatched, it was a useful spell.

Albus charged forward hoping that his flame would undo even this enemy. His fire whip lashing out towards the Ulitharid like a crack of Hadrian's lightning. The demon twisted away, breaking off his search, raising its staff, the whip clanging off of a swirling red shield that it summoned into creation. It responded with a volley of insanity curses, even one of which would have broken Albus' mind.

Albus for his part shifted, the curses narrowly avoiding him even as he began transfiguring the dusty air around the demon into microscopic glass particles. It would be unnoticeable, but no less deadly.

Bid döröv dekh toirog _Lortiamusyn_ baina. _Luunuudyn daisan._ I am _Lortiamus of the Fourth Circle. Bane of Dragons. _

Albus' brow furrowed as he looked out at the demon. _Bane of Dragons. _Albus knew that boded poorly for him. He had discovered the 12th use of Dragon blood and knew those were the ones they had published, his desire to study the likes of dragons was long gone from him. In his journeying, Albus had learned the truth about Dragons that he was sure the Ministry was nearly unaware of; the ones that the wizards thought of as dragons, were not dragons at all, they were but shadows of true dragons, they were all classified as _lesser dragons. _They had little consciousness, they were little more than beasts, true dragons on the other hand were more akin to gods then they were lesser dragons, they could change form, they could appear like any human, they could cast magic, _wizarding magic, if they were so inclined, b_ut perhaps most terrifying was that they could cast Dragon magic.

If this being indeed earned the title of Dragon Slayer, he was far more fearsome than Hadrian or himself. Albus thanked his stars that the being was limited by his possession, or else Albus was sure that even the army of the dwarves would have fallen easily to the demon.

Tapping his staff into the ground, Albus transfigured reality, the space between them, in reality only 30 feet, stretched for what could have easily been 100 feet, the dwarves running to aid them, kept running, the distanc it stood, its mage armor glowing angrily, smoke rising from where the armor had burned through his robe with the intensity of the backlash. It raised its hand in a claw, and Albus felt like he had been punched, he lost control over the reality distortion, both of them falling onto their asses as they went from being a hundred feet apart to only 30 feet apart in a matter of seconds.

e stretching infinitely, no matter how hard they ran, they would not be able to reach Albus and Lortiamus, Albus thought it might just save their lives.

The Deathstick shrinking into a wand, Albus slashed his wand and the crag he stood on pushed him up a good twenty feet into the air. Lifting a handful of sand to his lips, Albus blew. The sand flew outwards, every grain transforming into winged birds, glass birds, and there were literally thousands of them that all divebomb his enemy. The only issue with what Albus had done was that in giving himself more space, he had given his enemy the same benefit.

The Ulitharid raised his staff and the glass bird's eyes flickered red as they redirected their bombing path towards Albus, who with a gesture turned them all back to sand, then fired them in a continuous stream towards his enemy, Albus gestured, and the sand was replaced by boulders, 2 feet wide, flying at speeds so fast that they seemed invisible, the demon used it's psionics to deflect one then two of the boulders but after a dozen, it slipped, the next three-barrel size stones slamming into him, the first one hit his shoulder, moving him out of the way forcibly from being pulverized by the other 12 that slammed into where it had previously been standing.

Leaping to his feet, Albus looked at his mark, before turning, appearing with a crack several feet in front of his enemy. The black flames parting as they sought to end the enemy they now found inside their circumference, the Ulitharid unharmed as the flames were diverted by its telepathic power. It returned fire, sending what Albus' magic told him was a necrotic spell at him. The spell was a swirling orb of neon green energy flecked with black, the color of decay. Swinging the Death Stick like a club, Albus' robes were rustled as a gentle but firm wind pushed the Dwarves who were once again trying to approach backward and out of harm's way.

As Albus moved even closer to the Ulitharid, as he thrust his staff at the creature, only to have the Deathstick slam into the raised staff of bloodiron that he had found blocking his strike. Channeling magic into his muscles, Albus blocked the three quick thrusts, pushing the staff so that it wasn't aimed at his chest just as it fired five nearly invisible shimmering psionic blades from its head. The Demon's staff sliced through the air, leaving a thin line of blood across cheek. The staff had passed through his mage armor, something that Albus had not thought was possible. Blood that he realized would be used against him.

_Tsusaa butsalgana_. Boil. Albus screamed as he felt the spell pass his Mage armor defenses. His body beginning to get hotter and hotter as the blood curse took effect.

'ALBUS! HELP' Hadrian's desperate voice broke through his thoughts on how to deal with this, his own limited knowledge of the accursed blood magic _again_ biting him in the ass. His blood had gotten uncomfortably hot. He absentmindedly deflected the iron spikes that the demon had just banished at him. It was clearly waiting out the blood curse, trying to keep him distracted enough that he would be able to do nothing about it.

'Hadrian, I am in no position to help anyone or anything at the moment, you are on your own.' He sent back, the effort straining him beyond what he had ever contemplated. He was getting hotter and hotter, his ability to defend himself, weaker and weaker, and suddenly as he was struck with a spell of dizziness, Albus failed to deflect the spike that was sent at him and was sent crashing to the ground. His body felt like it was being burned from the inside out. He could not even scream.

Suddenly, he felt a chill, one that was coming from behind his ear, it began to spread, the sensation of the heat and the cold in his body making him want to tear his skin. A moan of pain slipped out. Blearily he looked up, and saw the seemingly recovered Rath'gar had engaged Lortiamus. The goblins speedy attacks driving the Ulitharid back, his head rolling back, he lay there, paralyzed by the warring sensation inside of his body, noting as his vision swam several dozens Dwarven warriors surrounding him, maybe he would not die after all.

* * *

Rath'gar watched as Hadrian battled the possessed Ulitharid, he hardly had gotten to know the two men, but it was clear they were not _normal_ Wizards. Not by any measure. That was twice now the Wizards had saved him. He had been hoping to wait to use his true skill, but he doubted that there would be another moment.

Albus and Hadrian were not the only ones who were in possession of powerful artifacts. Rath'gar was the fourth son of the King Ragnorok the Third, there was little chance of him ever ascending to the throne, but that didn't change his royal heritage. He was trained by the best, he was taught the Goblin secrets. One of which was the true power of goblin fighters. They were the _berserka'rar_ perhaps more commonly known as berserkers, and Rath'gar was special, he was a berserka'gh, one of the Goblin elite. Now, the Goblin treaty of 1621 _forbade the _goblin kingdom from ever training another berserka'rar, but the sheer amount of what the pencil pusher wizards forbade that was still done would fill a rather large vault, so the Goblins had kept their berseka'rar secret.

Now Rath'gar would be revealing that secret in the presence of two of the most powerful Wizards that _he _had ever seen.

"Uk grat'ma gaar berserka'gh!" Rath'gar's face seemed to grow more angular as he was wreathed in a glow of red that could only be described as _sanguine. _Ancient runes, runes in _orcish _blossomed across his skin, his eyes glowing yellow as he felt the sharp pain as the runes absorbed all of the blood he had spilled, his enemies and his own.

"GaAAaaR UThAaaar!" His battle cry blasted from his mouth like a cannon, his wounds sealing themselves, his pain giving him power. Rath'gar rushed towards where he saw the Elder Wizard trying to battle an Ulitharid close range, and failing, the elderly wizard's movements growing more and more sloppy.

It took barely any time for Rath'gar to clear the area, slicing any that came close with a blood thirsty grin, his sharp teeth making him look feral. In his hands, his axes were whirlwinds of death. As he used the bodies of the enemy as jumping platforms, leaping from Illithid to illithid, burying his axes in their bodies as he moved through the air, in a viciously efficient way.

He leaped off of the shoulders of the Illithid he had just beheaded and jumped at the crimson cloaked Ulitharid's back. It turned around in surprise, blasting him with a spell, but his battle rage dissolved the threads of the magic before it could even reach him. His glowing eyes met the obvious surprise of Lortiamus with glee and bloodlust. Spinning, Rath'gar began a devastating chain of attacks, only one in five being blocked by the Ulitharid's blood iron staff, the rest, leaving angry red marks in the things mage armor. Unlike normally, these marks did not disappear, smoothed over as the magic's flow adjusted from the backlash of the strike, the slashes stayed there, his own rage-aura's antimagic properties making his weapons devastating against the likes of magic armor.

Rath'gar continued his assault, his mind craved one thing only, the blood of his enemy. He slashed first with one axe, even as he raised the other one, his blows seamlessly coordinated, leaving Lortiamus with not a moment to spare, no time to collect himself, and cast a spell. Had his attention not been singularly focused on separating the Ulitharid's head from its body, he would have most certainly noted that the fire storm that Hadrian had been trapped in was now glowing with a blue light.

* * *

Hadrian felt the Eye pull more and more magic from him, the pulsing aura of _ice _growing, the Eye overjoyed to do snuff out the fire. Then Hadrian pulsed, the magic completing its task. Exploding outwards, the Eye of the Jotuun, _froze _the flames that were trying to consume it, a macabre swirling flame immortalized for all time.

Hadrian expected to feel the Eye release him as Eldingr had, but it did not, instead, Hadrian felt himself turn, and standing there in shock, was Camerath. With a snarl, the demon fired bolt after bolt of fire from his sword, before charging Hadrian.

Their two swords clashed, and where before Eldingr's powers were of little use against the power of fire, the Eye proved far more effective. The two blades clashed, their wielders reeling with shock as lightning-like arcs of ice, and gouts of fire, were sent here and there, as Eldingr, and the Eye battled for dominance, the flames unable to melt the permafrost.

Camerath leaned forward, his tentacles reaching for Hadrian's face, the two at an impasse when suddenly the Ulitharid gasped his eyes widening, even as the sword fell from his hands, a large stone spike erupting through his center, lifting him ten feet up into the air. Standing across from Hadrian, was the Orodûm who had stayed to witness the battle. The Orodûm was cloaked in a purple robe, his face covered by a mask, one that hid his true identity.

Hadrian realized that the Eye had still not released control of his body, and with horror realized what the Eye viewed the Orodûm's action as; kill stealing. Panic welling in him, Hadrian attempted to seize back his body, it was _his _after all, and for his efforts, he received a cold shock, Eldingr however was not so callous in his respect for his wielder, as he felt the two divine artifacts fight over control. It was over in a millisecond. For while the Eye was indeed powerful, it lacked the connection with Hadrian that Eldingr, could draw from, Hadrian felt the presence of the Eye sulk away. Even as Eldingr returned control of his body and magic to Hadrian with a gentle hum, the ice spike forming in his hands, turning to mist.

"Thank you Orodûm for your assistance." Hadrian's head whipped around, as he _felt _Albus' pain, no longer dulled by being backseat in his own body.

"Albus!" his urgent whisper came out as he and the Orodûm turned towards where they felt the flare of Magic.

Albus knew that he had experienced some rather serious damage to his inner organs due to the extreme fever he was sure he had run, and though he felt it recede rapidly as the chill diffused into his blood, Albus looked up confused as to why he was still alive.

Rath'gar was single-handedly holding off the possessed Ulitharid. Albus stared at the goblin in mystification. The goblin was impressive yes, but he had been forced to save him from being overwhelmed by the foot soldiers, how then was he fighting an Ulitharid that was possessed by a demon of the Fourth? Then Albus realized it, the glow coming off of Rath'gar. How had the Goblins' hidden that they had still trained _berserka'rar_. Had they been caught, it would have meant all-out war.

Berserka'rar were the reason that the Goblins were even a threat to wizards in the first place; immune to magic? Empowered by blood. They were dangerous foes, and the wizards had given much to wipe them from the planet, the existence of even one boded ill should the goblins ever revolt. Still seeing his companion battle the Ullitharid quashed his ICW conditioning, when surrounded by an army of Illithid, that was not the time to worry about such idiotic issues such as breaches in mortal treaties.

Albus' current state of 'awake' had been noticed by the dwarves that were guarding him, and they forced him to drink what he assumed was a healing potion as he immediately felt better, the cool liquid soothing the inflammation running rampant through his body.

Leaning up, he saw Rath'gar get pushed off and engaged by several of the remaining illithid, the Ulitharid angrily turning back in Albus' direction, butchering the dwarves that tried in vain to stop it from approaching. Albus felt with a twinge of heartache each of their passing.

Albus sent the pre-prepared mage armor on two of the dwarves who would have been butchered in the monster's single-mindedness to end him. Albus looked at the fallen bodies, their sacrifice for him touching him deeply as he realized how he could end the threat. Albus curled his fingers as he murmured under his breath. Four more dwarves fell before Albus' could protect them, Albus banished the rest a distance away, better bruised than immolated, his spell was complete, the dwarves deaths would not be in vain. Albus already felt the irrational need to _erase_ this demon from existence that the blinding Light Magic instilled in him. Holy magic, was as corrupting as dark magic. It altered your mind, it was the most extreme _Light Magic_ that could be cast, and like Fel Magic, to those born of the balance, like Humans it was devastatingly corrupting. Eager as it was to sway the soul of the caster who let even a little bit of the magic into them.

With a triumphant look in his eye, Albus waited until Lortiamus stood in front of him, an arm's length away, and then clenched his fist. His robes, Mondstrahl, erupting in a blinding light, that served to hide his true intent; there was a sound, like the sound of a bell tolling, as the area around him exploded in white flames. The demon and its host screamed, for the first time since they had first spoken, the two voices clearly distinct as it was burned by the explosion. Its screams were short-lived as the Holy flames ate through the bonds that had kept it alive throughout its possession, the fel magic unable to maintain itself as the cleansing fire unraveled it, Lortiamus screaming as the holy fire consumed its corrupted host body. The only remnant of its presence, a melted lump of now pure white metal, stripes of sanguine red running through it, the cleansed remains of what had once been the bloodiron spine scepter that Lortiamus had wielded.

The remaining dwarves approached him, grateful looks in their eyes, it was clear that with the defeat of both Camerath and Lortiamus, there was little holding the Illithid together, and the dwarven army rapidly cut the remaining ones down.

"Albus?" Hadrian ran up to him, looking him over, relief flooding their connection as the younger boy took stock of his situation.

"Yes. Hadrian" Albus weary response triggered a feeling of deep worry through their connection.

'I am glad you are alright,' Albus' eyes widened at the sheer _weight _of Hadrian's sentiment flowed into his conscious.

'We, my young friend are in this together, it will take more than that to do me in,' Albus knew Hadrian felt his appreciation for the young man.

"I think we have done our part, don't you friend?" Albus noticed the Orodûm walking towards them, his conversation with the Captain seemingly complete.

"Yes let us go before I land myself in even more trouble than I imagine I am currently in." The Orodûm chuckled before leading them back towards the city, the Orodûm's Honor guard protecting the foursome as they made their way back to the city. To clean up, rest and then move onwards towards the cult lair.

A/N:

Hello,

As promised, a long chapter! Hopefully, you guys enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it, The next update will happen on the February 20th, the next few weeks are busy, and I will need to focus on real life, I hope this tides you over, 12.1 k is no joke. This chapter, as well as the next two, are all heavy on the action and world-building. If you like that, I suppose that you will very much enjoy them.

Now, to the dear reviewer who realized the demonic is actually Mongolian, and then offered to help me with the Mongolian so he could be spared reading it; if you got this far, I am sorry you will have to put up with this for a few more chapters, I have no time to change it. To the rest of you enjoy skipping over the fun guttural sounding script, and thinking insert demonic sounds here I certainly do.

This chapter saw many things finally come into fruition. We got to see a lot of development for Hadrian and Albus, more information about Rath'gar, someone who when I created, I really had no plan for, but whom I am loving more and more, Illithids, and many other cool things that we have been building up to. Consequences, like the memoriastum, the effects of which you can expect to creep up here and there. Albus is not always wrong in his advice, and Hadrian though having enjoyed the effects of the Potter memoriastum, will still realize he has many things to learn.

Now, I love hearing your thoughts.

I suspect many of you are wondering why do Hadrian and Albus loot everything... Wouldn't you if you were going through different dimensions? This is all setting up some ideas I have for the future. They will very much need to use all of the random things that they collect. Also the canon Dumbledore likes collecting all manner of crap, artifacts and the like, his office is said to be riddled with them, why should he not do so when running around places wizards dare not dream of?

On that note, I hope you enjoyed the Dhemdarum surprise. Thanks for reading

\- Omega573 


	10. The mines of the Kshal'tul (8216)

**9\. the Mines of the Kshal'tul**

Albus and Hadrian sat with King Rurolir and the Orodûm, the pair had barely had twelve hours' respite since the Dhemdarum Surprise as the battle was being called by the Dwarves. The two humans and their goblin companion had heavily dosed up on potions, Albus' mind going out to his wayward familiar. He had grown complacent he realized. Fawkes was a rather large advantage, perhaps one of the largest advantages he had, he was sure however that his old friend had a good reason for disappearing after the appearance of the frightful one.

Hadrian had insisted he take one of the precious few drops of Fawkes' tears that he had with him. He had had the wherewithal to collect his familiar's tears when the opportunity presented itself over the last several decades. It had more than likely saved his and Hadrian's lives. Rath'gar was unsurprisingly absent of any and all wounds of ailments, the activation of his power as a Berserka'gh sufficient in boosting him completely. The last twelve hours had been spent on simply healing. They did not have infinite time to tarry, however they had dealt an extremely devastating blow to the Illithid forces. One that they would not be recovering from anytime soon. Albus was brought back to the meeting by the King speaking up.

"You and the Dwarven scouting party will follow this system of caves into the Mines of the Kshal'tul where the Orodûm have traced the Cult back to, it is most likely where the leader of the Cult will be, you will have to slay the Illithid, and then communicate to us the location of the damnable Elder Brain, so that we may strike at our enemies and end this." Albus knew they were already pushing matters by delaying their decision to move forward.

"Tell me Deep Lord, after we deal with the Elder Brain, will the path to Álfheimr take us past Dhemdarum again? Or shall it be more direct to move onward directly from wherever we are." The Dwarven King's eyes did not shift, though the eyes of several of the other dwarves shifted nervously at Albus' question.

'Did you notice that Hadrian?'

'Do you believe that they do not know of the path to Álfheimr?'

'I believe it is time we got some answers don't you Hadrian?'

"We shall have to see of course based on the location of the Elder Brain. I can give you no assurances my friends," the dwarven king's baritone echoed through the silent chamber.

"Deep Lord, I believe a gesture of _good faith_ as it were would not be out of order, what information can you give us about the way forward, we are men of our words, but surely the assistance we have provided you has earned us this much?"

"We shall discuss this in detail when we meet before striking at the Elder Brain, not before that. There is still much to do, and little time to do so. Have you made your preparations?" Albus and Hadrian did not bother hiding their displeasure at the Dwarven King's lack of tact and transparency revealed itself.

"We shall be ready within an hour to depart."

"Good, you may make your preparations, the Dwarven warriors that will be joining you on this journey shall be at

the remains of the False Gate in an hours time. None in the room noticed the frown that marred the Orodûm's face at the normally friendly king's behavior towards their allies.

* * *

Hadrian cast his senses into the cave ahead of them, their trunks were all shrunken, he had taken the opportunity to find some souvenirs of all things from the city. Some foodstuffs, some charms, some of the dwarven made jewelry, the dozen Dwarves that accompanied Hadrian were all garbed similarly. They were all hooded, cloaked, masked dwarves garbed in armor so black that they moved invisibly.

They were apparently called the Dazûm; the elite squad, the same elite squad of Dwarven warriors that protected the Orodûm. They wielded all manners of weapons, they were truthfully two teams of 5 with two extra dwarves electing to join their stealth team. Both dwarves were garbed similarly to the Dazûm, one's armor had a grey lining to his cloak, and the other a purple lining.

They had not spoken much since Hadrian, Albus and Rath'gar had departed, Albus and Hadrian trying and failing to attach a telepathic communication relay with their Goblin friend, the connection snapping every time as the goblin princes foreign biology and mind would not accept a human connection being established with it in such a simple way.

The three did find a spell that when Hadrian scribed it into a set of rings would act as a three-way communicator, it was most certainly not as powerful as Albus and his blood connection, but it would serve its' purpose, he had scribed five mithril rings that the King had happily given him.

Hadrian like Albus was convinced something was going on with the Dazûm squad that he was walking with, the dark-cloaked group made their way through the winding tunnels, he could already feel the _magic_ change as they left the cities surrounding caves, the magic tasting far _more_ than the dwarves alone.

There were a pequliar line of glowing fungi that grew along the tunnels, or else, Hadrian would have suspected that they would be totally in the dark, not that the dwarves or their goblin cared, their darksight giving them perfectly clear vision, where Hadrian and Albus both were still making use of the Darksight sigils that they had cast on their eyes. That and a variety of silencing charms, scent obscuring charm, and mind obscuring magic had been cast on their clothing/ armor, it would hopefully let them move with far more stealth than the denizens of the Deep would expect. They had just made it to the middle of a stalactite and stalagmite filled cavern. There were hundreds of them, the ground glowing fainty with the fungi that had been all over. Albus stood, slowly backing up. The group tightened.

Albus held his hand up, everyone immediately stopped moving.

The tunnels were eerily quiet. Hadrian suspected something was wrong. As even the titter of rats and other critters was absent. Flexing his magic internally, Hadrian reached out, sensing something, but even his magic was confused, for it could sense nothing that was out of place even though he could feel the multitude of presences bearing down on them.

/What is it Cheif Warlock?/ Rathgar's voice rang out in the minds of Hadrian and Albus.

/I am not sure, we are not alone here./ Albus responded.

'Albus, what do you sense?' Hadrian's voice echoed through their normal bond, it felt wrong to use the ring when he had a far deeper and better connection than any enchanted trinket could provide.

/Something is attempting to trap us./ Albus said, using the ring for the benefit of Rath'gar. Albus' hand reached up, three fingers raised straight up, the sign to draw arms. With a harsh signal from Albus, the entire group readied their weapons. They all grouped together, forming a tight circle, Hadrian and Albus on opposite sides, facing outward.

There was not even a sound to warn them as suddenly one of the dwarves screamed as it was lifted into the air. A long tendril snatching it towards one of the stalagmites that lined the edge of the cavern.

"Ropers!" one of the soldiers said even as he threw his ax, slicing through the strip-like appendage that had curled around his comrade. The other Dwarves seemed to know what this meant, as they tightened the circle. Suddenly around the cavern, glowing eyes opened. Each of the things that they had only thought of as protrusions of stone, were in fact creatures.

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE" The sounds grew in strength, one of the dwarves wincing as he was assaulted, the rest drawing the rest of their weapons; Albus Rath'gar and Hadrian's magic armor activating, glowing sigils forming around their ears, filtering out the magic from the sound, protecting them from its debilitating powers.

Absently casting one of the few prepared mage armor sigils at the Dwarf that seemed affected, Albus immediately began firing on the monstrosities. Slashing their tentacle-like tendrils to bits. Creating true stalactites and stalagmites that erupted from the ground, skewering some of the false stone creatures. Realizing that the small group would have to get organized or else they would face casualties, Hadrian cast a wide area of effect momentum stopping spell.  
"_Motus per subsisto," _with a ripple, his spell smashed into the dozens of tentacles, his wand vibrating under the strain of holding the multitude of tentacles at bay. The Ropers were conical, shaped like stalactites and stalagmites that they were emulating. They were long pointed triangles, a single glowing yellow eye, its pupil a long thin slit, like a cat's eye, but there was no semblance of consciousness in its gaze, only madness, a hunger that would consume it utterly. Its mouth a churning rotating circle of teeth, each tooth facing inwards, Albus' eyes lost track after three rows of teeth, the darkness of its maw hiding whatever other hellish features it might have inside of its mouth. Each had dozens of long rope-like appendages, ones that logically gave it the name Roper. A truly hideous creature.

'Hadrian, we need to get organized, do something fast, or we won't be able to defend all of the fronts we are getting slammed on.' Albus got a mental nod.

'Drop your spell, I am going to trap them.' Albus' did not quite know what Hadrian was planning, but figured that part of working as a team was trusting the other members, and while he could not find himself trusting the masked dwarves, he trusted Rath'gar to an extent, and Hadrian completely, their bond telling him all he needed to know about _who_ Hadrian was.

"_Magi repulsa est scriptorum" _Hadrian threw his splayed hand upwards, Eldingr crackling in his main hand, as a swirling transparent dome of nearly translucent gossamer sigils sprung up around the group, forming what seemed to be a spider's web pattern on the translucent shield that moved around them. The tentacle slammed into the shield, but unlike what would normally happen, where the tentacles would become burned or rebuffed by the shield, the Arch-Mage's Flytrap, as the spell he had just cast was called was a shield that would trap whatever touches it to it, by itself exceedingly dangerous as when you released it, the things caught would resume their normal trajectories. But Hadrian was planning something altogether different.

The Arch-Mage's Flytrap was, in fact, a useful spell not just because everything that stuck to it got trapped, but because the shield itself would become a medium to deliver spells directly to the trapped object or creature. For the first time in a while, Eldingr provided a spell to him, one that was far better suited for the task that he had in front of him than the spells he had been thinking of.

"_Eldingar teng_i!" _Lightning connection. _A single strand of lightning flew from Eldingr's sword blade to the top of the dome, the entire dome, dancing with sparks, sparks that spread to the now several dozen trapped Roper tentacles, it sparkled across them, doing little to no damage.

"_Eldingar straumur!" Lightning Torrent. _The small thread connecting them all grew angry seeming to swell as Eldingr used the connection to pump more electricity into every one of the connected Ropers, their single glowing eyes, glowing angrily as they were painfully electrocuted, it seemed their attachment to the walls and ground were grounding them, preventing serious damage, perhaps it was their more earth inclined nature, there was no way to tell, but Hadrian would have to up his game.

"_Eldingarflóð!" Lightning flood._ His voice was guttural, as his sword became a proverbial bursting dam, _lightning streaming _from his focus, he was surprised when he noted that the lightning was not as powerful as he had been able to summon when he was under the open sky. Still, from their body language, the dwarven elite were captivated by the sight of the cavern, full of glowing Ropers, looking more like a massive chandelier than a cave, the Roper's tentacles, glowing in thin lines as the Flytrap held them hostage and the Lightning spell did its work, the ropers eyes popping one by one, their bodies going dark as the lightning thread fizzled out, its purpose completed. Soon the cavern was nearly devoid of ropers, the few that were left falling quickly to Albus' wand.

'Well done Hadrian' Albus' pride in him echoed through their bond.

"Forward then friends?" Albus gestured at their shocked companions. A gentle smile on his face.

* * *

The group moved on, journeying through a dimension that was unthinkably large, but infinitely smaller than Midgard. Their journey had them happen across all manner of creatures, Albus, Rath'gar and Hadrian taking the opportunity to grow as a group, fighting together, bonding together, learning their roles as part of a team, for whatever lie in their future, they needed no powers of divination to know it would be fearsome.

The three were all strangers here, in this alien dimensions, where all was dark. Hadrian and Albus found themselves becoming at first becoming a bit antsy, their bodies and minds addled by the lack of sun or the noticeable passage of time. Both had no choice but to take turns in their extra-dimensional trunks meditating and staring out the illusory windows and ceilings to prevent themselves from experiencing a collapse of their minds due to the strain put on their occlumency.

It was no simple thing to grasp the truth that they were in a place with '_**no' **_sky, for the sky did not, could not exist in Svartalfheimr, and while they knew that, _understanding that was a different matter. _Hadrian had pointed out that that few had ever seen as many as the realms as he and Albus already had.

They had not discussed it, but they knew that there was a chance that there was no way to return back to earth, they did not have any sign as to the passage of time, nor the state of the world that they had left so hastily. Both Hadrian and Albus knew that had they not had each other, it was likely that their strength to continue on this path would have long fled them.

Hadrian and Albus had discovered something curious, one of the dwarves they were with, the one with Purple lining to his black Dazûm armor and cloak, he seemed to always be susceptible to magical attacks, it was barely noticeable, but since Hadrian and Albus knew better than to expect Magic cast at a dwarf to stick beyond a certain point, they were surprised when that dwarf's charms never had to be refreshed. As if his magic wasn't focused on defending him from magical threats.

The Dazûm were disciplined, polite, and nearly reverent of Hadrian and Albus, it seems their participation in the Dhemdarum Surprise, their actions saving the lives of hundreds if not thousands of dwarves after saving their king's life, and establishing the Mythal of the Dwarven Lords, was not something that the dwarven people were likely to forget.

So it should have come as little surprise when Hadrian and Albus had been presented by the Dwarven King with two weapons; the fire sword that Camerath had wielded, and the purified bloodiron, its previous dark corrupted look transformed into a chromescent white with blood-red swirls passing through it, forged into a sword. It was as far as the Dwarven Loremasters were concerned the first of its' kind. Albus and Hadrian had graciously taken their spoils of war, but neither had felt much of a connection to the weapons, Eldingr, was to put it kindly, unforgiving of his entertaining the idea of possessing the sword of fire, the shock he had gotten was enough to end that line of thought. It did not stop him from studying it, and trying to better understand what he had in his hands. his earlier observations that the blade seemed to contain the flames in the metal itself proven correct.

He had never encountered another weapon quite like Eldingr, or the Deathstick, but Hadrian noted that it's previously ridiculous size was now something that was far more reasonable, as it shrunk into the size of his palm. Humming happily had him. It was, _happy to be free_ of its last weidler. Or so he thought.

He had cast detection spell after detection spell, seeking to understand its mysteries. The blade literally glowed, giving off a heat that revealed its' power. What he had previously thought to be a crossguard, appeared to be flames immortalized in metal was, in fact, a rising Sun. But more than anything, it was the presence that the sword gave off that gave Hadrian pause. This weapon was powerful. The demon had misunderstood it, thinking that the blade was a simple fire-sword, powerful, but limited. Hadrian's research and tests of the sword showed it to be the Blade of the First Light.

He had originally given it to Albus, but to their dismay, they were reminded of the fact that Albus while proficient in the Art of Swordplay, needed no wand, and would hardly find an artifact as powerful as the one he currently wielded. It was decided by the Master and Apprentice duo that the sword of bloodsteel and the _Aistiraha_ as the sword of the rising sun had communicated to Eldingr, would all remain with Hadrian, as Albus would not be able to wield the blade, though Hadrian doubted Eldingr would be so generous as to allow him to wield Aistiraha at all.

The three had begun working on their roles, Rath'gar was the one who distracted the enemy, taking the attention away from the two wizards, both of who aided him with magic, boosting his own protection with layered spells between the two Sorcerers.

Hadrian's skillset was in his arcane magic, magic that would poison the blood of any who drew his, magic that would turn an invading force into dust, the second it passed through Hadrian's sometimes sinister wards. Hadrian was incharge of crowd controlling, His attacks were one of raw power, exemplified no better than with his wand Eldingr. He didn't fight with subtlety often, he was the bringer of Skyfire. Hadrian was now comfortable fighting in a melee, his Memoriastum fully integrated after his frequent meditation and ordering of his mind, the part Elf no longer felt the sickening feeling of steel parting his skin, or the cold feeling of the steel every time he gutted some random enemy.

Albus they had discovered was far better as support. The man had a ridiculous number of tricks up his sleeve, a stupid number of spells, a century of his _own _knowledge and experience, he was far from a wimp. The man was also known to be one of the all-time masters in transfiguration, meaning that Hadrian and Rath'gar were often joined by all manner of unbreakable transfigured and charmed beasts.

Albus was their guardian angel, his power sensing souls growing the more he was able to practice, he was slowly beginning to be able to tell friend from foe, and as he had explained, one of the largest issues with battle transfiguration was friendly injuries. His style of magic could turn the tunnel they were in into a meat grinder, but when they were inside of it, and in a moment, if he was unable to tell friend from foe, it would prove disastrous. Wizards he had explained to his two younger companions, did not normally fight melees.

So they practiced, everyday traveling further from Dhemdarum, and closer to their destination; the Mines of the Kshal'tul.

* * *

The company of Dazûm and the Midgardians found themselves walking through tunnels that were getting progressively narrower.

"Master Sorcerers, Prince Rath'gar, we are approaching the Mines of the Kshal'tul." Hadrian looked at the purple trimmed Dwarf.

"Captain Otho, do you know what we can expect to find waiting for us in the Mines of the Kshal'tul?"

"The Mines of the Kshal'tul are perhaps one of the most open secrets of Dwarvendom." The masked dwarf looked in Hadrian's direction, the dwarf's featureless mask, and hooded form unsettling to Hadrian.

"It is an old place, one where eons ago, the dwarves were forced into slavery by the Drow, the accursed Dark Elves. It was also one of the places that the Drow seeking protection by the Dwarves have been sent to work off their debt to the Dwarven Nation. Hadrian's eyes widened a fraction of a second before he controlled his expression, None would be able to tell, his face obscured by his cloak. Neither he nor Albus' fancied being ambushed and having some fel creatures kill them in their sleep.

"The Elves were slaves?" Hadrian asked cautiously

"Not Elves sorcerer," Captain Otho's voice had more bite in it than he had ever heard before. "'_Dark-Elves,' _There is a big difference, and you would do well to remember it. Once they ruled the shadows of Svaltenheimr. No longer, there are many of them around still, too many but they have pushed far away from our kingdom, the king still has several Dark Elf in his court, they have powerful Magic, magic that is useful to us. They are ambassadors to the Dark Elven nation, They assist us with magic, and our ambassadors assist them with the rest. It is the best working relationship that our two peoples have had in eons.

The Mines are an accursed place, a place of death and horror, there are things that dwell here that are remnants from the days long gone when the hatred of the Drow pushed them to the most terrible of magic. Magic that still lingers in this place." The Dazûm captain paused, his voice having a metallic rasp behind his mask.

Know, before we enter this place, that what we will most likely face here is far more than they ever told you. There are rumors of things _fel_, things so ancient and evil that their names have been lost. Things that wait here, expect no friendly faces here children of Midgard, for you shall find none." the three Midgardian companions could do little else than a nod, dwelling on the Dwarven Captain's words as they continued walking closer to the Mines of the Kshal'tul.

* * *

The entrance to the Mines of the Kshal'tul was not what Hadrian had expected, there was no formal gateway or entrance, rather the access tunnel that they had been walking down, opened up into a _massive mineshaft, _one that went out in either direction vertically.  
"The levels above are closed down, sealed by the Dwarves and Drow before we left this place, it is the lower ones that may tell where the cult has been working from, and the direction to where the Elder Brain hides. Be quiet and aware, these mines were dangerous before whatever has taken up residence here was able to do so." Otho said. The eleven other Dazûm nodding their masked heads at their leader's words.

"If you would not mind, I believe a single file line, with Hadrian or myself leading and flanking, would be prudent." Albus had taken to using the Deathstick in its wand form, some of the pathways were narrow, a staff had no place in such tight quarters. Now though, he could see that the cavern was easily large enough to move the entirety of Hogwarts through and down the mine shaft as well. Tapping his now staff to the ground, Albus cast a mild scent and sound dampening charm on the party. The dozen dwarves' stink would be a risk of alerting their enemies far before their silenced forms did.

The party descended down the stone steps, deeper into the shadowy depths of the deep than most had ever dared. It was not lost on the party, not all of them would return, and so with the exception of a crowned goblin, the entire party of masked or obfuscating their faces descended further into the mine shaft.

Hadrian's eyes gazed at the wall amongst the muted sound of shuffling and found himself noting the thin vein of Mithril that covered the sides of the carved stone steps, its whitish metal. Glinting amongst the black basalt like stone that much of Svaltenheimr was made of.

He noticed small minuscule spots of something that glowed angrily against the black stone.

Tapping the dwarf in front of him, he and the dwarf both paused in their descent.

"What is this master Dazûm?"

"Hmmm that be Argatham." The dwarf looked at the blue dot. "Touch it with your bare skin." The dwarf's face was covered, but had Hadrian been able to see it, he would have been far more cautious.

Reaching his hands out, Hadrian's fingers stroked the glowing blue vein. He breathed in feeling its power, and as his fingers came fully into contact with the stone, Hadrian's eyes widened in shock. That stone was magic. More magic than he had ever felt, it was _raw_. Unguided, untamed, unrefined, unprocessed, it was glorious. The Dwarf's face was an impassive mask he had grown accustomed to seeing, but there was something that made Hadrian think that he was amused. Hadrian guided the magic into his Darhain Cuffs, row after row of the diamonds glowing, he had with a single touch of the fragment filled the entire cuff. Looking to see, Hadrian realized there was no trace of the Argatham. Not even a glimmer. With disappointment, Hadrian turned back to the Dazûm, who had already turned around.

"We best move onwards, sorcerer, best not to fall behind, between you and I this be the _true_ treasure of Kshal'tul. It is said that these mines alone have the Argatham so precious and so valued by all of the realms. It is the reason why this place attracts so many fel creatures, it is a treasure in itself." The two moved quickly, catching up fast with the rest of the group, slow as their movement was on the single person stairway.

'Albus! did you feel that?'

'Quite, what was it?'

'It was the most wonderful thing Albus, raw Magick Albus! Unrefined, powerful, and gloriously accessible raw magic!' Hadrian felt the older man's mirth.

'Magic is an amazing mistress is she, not Hadrian?'

'You have no idea. Apparently, that was only a very small vein, there might be more,' not wanting to quash Hadrian's excitement, Albus simply sent back a feeling of excitement to the young man, internally, he was cautious, something felt wrong. If indeed there was even a hint of raw magic, why was the place not crawling with denizens of the deep? Either, they didn't know of the mysterious Argatham, or else, they were scared of something that called the mines its home, for no creature in creation, could deny the desire to experience what Hadrian had just flooded his system with. Of that Albus was sure.

They had in an effort to find a place to rest, taken a branching path horizontally, hoping to journey to an alcove mostly out of the way and rest. It would do no one any good if they were exhausted when they finally found the cult's leader.

They entered a cavern, one that registered to both his and Albus' detection charms as empty of any living being, the two moved into the room. Albus distractedly talking to the Darzûm Skeletons and shriveled corpses that littered the cavern, dwarves, and lithe beings that Hadrian suspected were Drow. In the center of the chamber was a giant 45 foot tall floating oval mirror. One that looked similar in some ways to the one that he and Albus had found in the Nightmare realm.

Cautiously approaching the artifact, a simple dome archway, his wand hanging loosely in his hands, Albus waved his hand, revealing the words on the bottom lip of the floating mirror. Hadrian walked cautiously around it, shocked to see the mirror seemed to only exist if you faced it face on, the other directions revealing nothing but empty space. Hadrian noted on the ground something that shocked him. _Runes of fire, the smell of brimstone assaulted his senses. Even as _the Words seemed to echo through the cavern on their own.

"_What is it?" Otho's gruff voice asked critically. _

_Mönkhiin shöniin toli. The Mirror of thgin lanrete The Mirror of Eternal Night _a voice echoed out in Demonic_. _Hadrian felt his breath catch, every breath he took an eternity as his mind processed where they currently were; in a room full of _corpses_ in front of a mirror portal to the Realm of Eternal Night.

Albus' mind was flying, the location of the final Hallow was the Realm of Eternal Night. Albus looked in the mirror, and instead of seeing his own reflection, he saw nothing, but yet something inside of him felt that whatever he should have been seeing was there, _just look closer. _Unwittingly he leaned forward, his beard almost touching the mirrors shimmering surface. Even as he was yanked back forcibly by Hadrian, his hand a mere hairs' breadth away from breaking the surface of the mirror.

'ALBUS what were you thinking? You cannot drop your guard for even a second.' Hadrian's mental shout rang in his master's head even as the older man tumbled to the ground, barely missing the edge of the giant mirror. The older man rose with a grunt, his hand pushing into the side of his head, he looked like he was drunk.

_Unite us. It was his wand of all things that spoke in his mind, and it seemed by Hadrian's startled look his as well. _

"_It is _a dimensional portal, one that leads to the Realm of Eternal Night. The land of Neverdeath." Albus said gravely. Looking around the spherical room at least four hundred feet across.. There were two doors, one from where they came, one leading somewhere else.

"Come there is a room, ahead we can try and rest there, it is empty, and warding the room will be an easy task." Hadrian gestured to the side, his scan of the room ahead revealing nothing of note, not even a corpse, at the least it would lead them out of what was clearly a direct portal to the Land of Neverdeath.

The party saw where he was gesturing to and moved onward towards the room, knowing that while risky, they had no other choice, Hadrian and Albus had been far ahead of the other Dwarves seeking to check the security of the mysteriously empty room near a portal to the realm of the undead, and so when they heard a low bonging, one that rang in their heads as well as the air, their necks nearly snapped as they looked to see one of the Dazûm looking at his hand in shock, it was Hadrian _realized _in the silvery mirror.

"Run! He snapped," Flicking his hand trying to banish the dwarf away from the now bubbling mirror, the spell not moving the poor warrior an inch. The dwarf screamed in terror as its arm necrotized. The dwarf's body slackened as his skin shriveled his eyes melting, leaking from under his mask, even as his armor fell off of his decayed form as his life force was absorbed by the portal.

"May you be taken to his halls by Ragrath the brave," Rath'gar prayed in horror.

The Dwarf's blood forming a pool of crimson on the ground in front of the mirror. The blood began churning, then like a funnel began swirling, swirling, growing larger, a twister of blood in front of the mirror, coating much of the room with the crimson before with an explosion the funnel exploded outward. A creature of nightmare standing in the place of the Dazûm companion that had just been murdered.

It stood two men tall, meaning twice as tall as Hadrian, and nearly four times the height of the tallest dwarf, as it was literally three humanoid bodies that had been stitched together in a bestial way. Standing in front of them, with four arms, grey skin glowing in the darkness, was what Hadrian suspected was a Lich.

The creature's head was perhaps the most shocking part, it was a decapitated head trapped in a phylactery, floating in red swirling liquid, liquid that glowed a terrible red, thin wisps of a grey beard patchily covering parts of its floating face, the eyes sunken in, but glowing a horrible sickly green, the nose long since having rotten away.

The Phylactery was attached to the two stacked torsos by way of a golden socket, the upper body of a half-giant or something, far larger than even two square human chests, it attached to a smaller torso, one that was seemingly attached to the larger bodies legs. Pins held the arms together, the smaller two arms, probably dwarven, held a long C shaped blade of some kind on the left side, the right side, a large 10-foot long scythe. Its upper left arm itself a grotesque bone scythe.

Its only garments were the long ankle-length flowing garb, a tattered black that billowed out from its waist, attached to a solid gold belt that was nailed into the monstrosities stomach area.

Hadrian absently heard one of the Dwarves' weapons slip from his hand at the sight of the monstrosity. There had not been a recorded lich on earth in centuries, all of them having disappeared mysteriously, all of the undead going with them. It was something that without doubt was about to try and consume them. Hadrian's eyes widened as the blood that had coated the room, was absorbed by the bodies.

'Albus' Hadrian's voice even telepathic communicated his terror at the entity in front of him. 'What do we do?'

"RUN," Albus' voice jarred them all into action, The Lith's entire unnatural body swiveling unnaturally fast to turn and face the other living beings. Even as it slammed its long scythe into the ground, the doors slamming shut, as the room full of downed corpses suddenly stood up. The piles of bodies righting themselves, their glowing red eyes all turning to focus on the trapped group.

Albus stepped forward, brandishing his wand, the room exploded into an inferno. The dwarves readying their weapons, to protect Albus as he tried to destroy the veritable ocean of undead that were rising from their death. The Lich watched from afar, seemingly interested in the byplay.

Albus wand moved like that of a conductor. He dared not use any more powerful spells, for who knew the results of a spell that split time-space to the surface of the sun, when there might have been no sun to begin with in this realm. Hadrian and he had learned their lesson after trying and failing to divine any semblance of time using time spells from the earth. The Magic itself failing as what they were asking simply did not exist.

Swirling ribbons of fire churned through the air, reminding Hadrian of the swirling body of Apep that he and Albus had seen battling Ra what seemed like a lifetime ago. Entire swaths of Undead being incinerated as the swirling mass of ribbon-like flowing fire undulated, running undead through its fiery stream.

Hadrian, the Dazûm, and Rath'gar had been faced with the swarm of undead that Albus' had not hit with his flowing storm of fire.

The swarm of undead smashing into their thinly crescent line, protecting Albus, Hadrian's features elven, as he butchered any undead that came towards him. The Draugr of Godred the Hunter's tomb an insignificant force compared to what _this_ lich just bound to undeath with a gesture of his will.  
Absentmindedly Hadrian fired a stream of lightning out of his off-hand, Eldingr beheading the next of a long line of undead steadily walking towards them. His spell blasting an undead off of a downed Dazûm. Rath'gar making quick work of the runner.

Hadrian noted that the Undead forces were falling faster to him than any of the dwarves, though their weapons were magical, it was clear that it took more than a few hits to disrupt the magical flow enough to return them to death.

Being in a small room was far from optimal because while Albus, Rath'gar and probably Captain Otho would all be protected from the backlash of true lightning, the other dwarves would not be so lucky, plus he doubted anything would miss the blast of true lightning.

Wild magic, on the other hand, might prove more useful in giving them some space. Joining his hands together, his hands forming interlocking triangles, Hadrian took a deep breath, Eldingr, forming into a cuff, similar to the Darhain Cuff that adorned his off-hand wrist, and _pushed_. As if physically pushed back, the undead flew back, the pulse of wild magic blasting them apart, sending them head over arse as Hadrian gave them some room.

Hadrian swayed on his feet as he dealt with the swell of exhaustion from the use of wild magic. It was an exceedingly dangerous magick, but it had its purposes. Because of his magic piling many of the undead together, Albus took the chance and bean slaughtering them, clumped up as they were, Fireballs bursting from the swirling storm, slamming into the groups of undead even as they righted themselves. One of the Dazum gave a gurgle even as he fell to an arrow to the gap between his armor and his face shield.

The next burst of arrows were deflected casually to the side by Hadrian who flicked Eldingr launching a lightning bolt at the snipers, frying them with the superheated plasma.  
Albus' firestorm had destroyed most of the undead, hardly a few dozen spread out undead remaining, too many to bother wasting so much magic on. With a swish of the Elder Wand, he directed the full stream of fire magic at the monstrosity who was standing and _watching them_ die to its undead army. It looked up, tucking its arms and scythe close to its torso as two massive fleshy hands erupted from the ground, encapsulating the Lich, protecting it as one would normally protect a butterfly or another small insect as the fire washed over it.

Dumbledore concentrated the fire around the massive twenty-foot clasped bone hands inside which the lich was protected. After nearly an entire minute, Albus dismissed the fire, swaying on his feet at the drain on his magic and the lack of sleep.

The flesh hands had gone from a fleshy color to black and charred, puss already leaking from them. There was a _shhllliiccckk _as the Lich's scythe emerged from the charred flesh, the fingers falling away, already beginning to melt away as the Lich stood tall, standing up to its full height as the hands that had shielded it decomposed completely in a matter of seconds behind him. The other undead having been killed by Hadrian, Rath'gar and the Dazûm.

The monstrosity moved closer, its sutured body rippling as it strode towards the horrified dwarven Dazûm. Hadrian stirred them out of their dazed state, Opening fire on the creature, pebbles growing into boulders, transforming into deadly spikes which he banished at the steadily approaching Lich. The creatures scythe a whirling messenger of futility as it bisected man-sized stones. Three of the 10 remaining Dwarven Dazûm charged the undead abomination, their weapons glinting as they rushed towards the larger fiend.

They broke against the Lich the way water breaks against stone. The first dwarf, still moving as his body slid to the ground, cut diagonally from shoulder to hip. Even the heaviest portion of his armor granting no protection against whatever the hell that scythe was.

The other hand, the one with the sickle clanged loudly against the dwarven ax even as the other dwarf struck from behind, his sword hardly piercing into flesh that was as thick as leather, the sword barely piercing the dead flesh before, the creature whirled around, backhanding the dwarf twenty feet away, where the Dazûm lay still.  
He could tell rage flowed through the remaining dwarves as they charged together as one. The scythe flashed, the dwarves rolling out of the way, hacking and slashing even as Hadrian checked on a swaying Albus, who was leaning against the Deathstick as means of standing upright. The firestorm was a most impressive spell, but even more impressive was a fine control. Magical power can always be supplied from an external source, the control, never. Albus was now paying the price for that extremely taxing fire show even though he was mentally exhausted.

Hadrian was unable to fire on the Lich with the dwarves engaging, successfully, in melee combat. It was becoming clear why they were the elite. Hadrian looked around for Rath'gar, and noted he and two of the other dwarves were dispatching some of the remaining undead and also making their way to where the other Dazûm had fallen after being backhanded by the Lich.

Two more dwarves fell. One to the sickle and the other to the Scythe, the Dwarves battling in a melee with the Lich were now down to only six in number, no longer able to do much more than fend off its cruel and swift attacks. The angles of its strokes impossible for any without four arms to accomplish.

Hadrian moved to rush forward to assist the remaining dwarves before feeling a firm hand on his shoulders.

'Stop,' Albus calm voice rang out in his head.

'But the Dazûm!'

'Have already passed.' Albus' voice was devoid of any emotion. 'All but one's strings have been cut, and even that unravels'

'What?' Hadrian did not understand his mentor's words until before Hadrian's eyes, the Lich spun inhumanly fast, rotating its blade, slicing through all but a single Dwarf, who was saved from death by the very earth. The ground erupting at his cry of anguish. Earthen spikes erupting from the ground to Hadrian and Albus' surprise, deflecting the instrument of his death even as Otho's telltale purple lining was bared as the Scythe sliced deep into his shoulder the glancing blow, allowing him to live. Albus' eyes widened, the thread that seemed to be unraveling, re-wound itself.

Realizing there was hope, Albus' arm released Hadrian even as he dashed forward, summoning the dying dwarf to the side of the chamber.

'Hold it off, Hadrian.' Albus' word needed no explanation as he realized what the dwarf was. An Orzûm, the dwarf's death would be disastrous to the Dwarven people, it also meant in addition to surviving they now had another goal, keep the Orzûm alive.

Feeling Eldingr hum with readiness Hadrian leaped, trusting his sword, releasing his magic, a crystal on his bracelet going dark as he flooded himself with its power, every second three, as his mind and body were hyper-charged by the huge influx of raw magic that was flooding him.

The Lich sliced at him, still insanely fast, too fast considering how souped-up he was on raw magic. Hadrian was ready, his blade deflecting first the Scythe, barely shifting its angle so that it slid into the ground even as he deflected the strike from the sickle with his mage shield. Capitalizing on his enemy's moment of weakness, Hadrian discarded the mage shield, instead of grasping the Eye of the Jotuun, feeling the world freeze with a breath. Casting the _strongest_ sticking spell he could on the scythe blade. It would not last long, it was an enchanted object after all, but it would hopefully prevent him from getting bisected as the Dazûm had.

Too exhausted to hold the focus for longer than a moment, Hadrian used the little time he had left as the world unfroze, dashing forward Hadrian struck, slicing hard at the seams where the sickle wielding arm was connected, just as time resumed, a sickening slice telling him that his aim with Eldingr had been true as the Lich's sickle wielding arm fell from his body, its connection cut by the artifact.

Even with the sticking charm and his elvish speed, Hadrian barely survived the Lich's retaliating strikes.

'Albus!' Hadrian spoke to the man telepathically, Hadrian was not able to move far enough away to have a breather, forced to roll and dodge repeatedly as the Lich sought its vengeance. Tripping, Hadrian looked up expecting to see the scythe as it sliced him in half, instead saw Rath'gar deflecting it, for blocking such a large weapon was as much of a death sentence as getting struck by it Hadrian mused.

"Uk grat'ma gaar berserka'gh!" Rathgar glowed with red energy as he activated his Beserka'gh abilities. His movements, which were already inhumanly fast, moving even faster. Taking his opportunity Hadrian joined in with his Goblin companion, grateful for the assist.

'ALBUS!' Hadrian shouted even more urgently in the man's mind. This time he got a response, a feeling of acknowledgment.

'Duck Hadrian' Albus' voice sounded for the first time in a few minutes, Hadrian dove to the floor just as a beam of purple erupted from Albus' staff, from his position on the ground, Hadrian noted the Lich's look of absolute terror, though it was muted by the fact that the Lich was only a head in a jar, and that the rest of the Lich's body was an abomination. The beam was intercepted by Two fleshy hands that again rose from the ground only to immediately nectrotize the second the beam touched them. Still, Hadrian supposed, coming to his feet, as he led Rath'gar away from the distracted Lich.

"What happened to the dwarf?"

"He will live," Rath'gar said shortly.

"The others?" Hadrian asked.

"They will also live, they are protecting their fallen companion, or at least that's what I told them, truth is, this is beyond them." Hadrian nodded in agreement even as he saw Albus transfigure two massive golems with a swish of his wand. Each was two heads taller than the Lich, and both were made of granite.

Of all things found on earth, granite was amongst the hardest thing to transfigure, except diamond he supposed, their very molecular structure resisting it. Albus had just transfigured two such golems without any wand movements or incantations, after being nearly drained of energy and strained mentally. Hadrian's jaw dropped at the older man's skill. The two golem moved fast, too fast, they latched onto the Lich grappling with it. Even as Albus strode forward, yanking his hands down towards the ground, the two golem forcing the Lich to his knees in front of Albus. Albus whose eyes glowed a purple that Hadrian had only seen in the pensive at Gringotts brandished the Deathstick.

Hear me Lich. Albus' command of the true tongue making all of the Dwarves flinch badly, as Albus grabbed the Resurrection Stone around his neck, I command you to speak. I know you are able, Hadrian, Rath'gar and the two remaining conscious Dwarves watched in disgusted horror as a mouth ate its way out of the chest area, bloody and grotesque.

HHHHHRRRRAAAAAAA whAt WoUld YOU HaVE ME saY? Albus glared at the Lich.

How do I open the gateway? The Lich seemed taken aback.

YoU DIE HeRE Or iN ThE NEverDeATH MoRTaL HOw dOeS It MAttER? Albus' splayed his fingers, locking them together, forming a sigil, his hands interlocking as he pushed forward. The Lich screamed as the liquid it's head was held in _boiled._ Hadrian sensing the powerful necromancy Albus was using cutting through the enchantments the Lich had used.

Speak plainly betrayer of your Lady Suddenly Hadrian realized what was bothering him about Albus, yes he had summoned the two golems, but Hadrian was willing to bet, in his exhaustion, the man had not had the fortitude to deny the Deathly Hallows, this was not Albus, this was the _Hallows, _Albus _knew_ no Necromancy powerful enough to hurt a Lich, the Potters had their fair number of Necromancers, but the magic just seemed strange to Hadrian, he had never truly delved into the powers of death and undeath.

A_AAGGGGGHhhhrrrrAAAAAAGGG. NOOOoooooooOOOOO. YOu don't EXist! YoU aRe FALSE! FaKe! The Lich screamed. _

_You will find Xheemden, that WE_ are very real, and _WE_ are not happy at all. You _will _tell US! Albus' aura grew larger still, Hadrian was scared if the Hallows pushed out even more of their power that they would alert everything in the mines of their presence. Still, what could _he_ do?

To oPEN the gaTE YOu musT prOVide BloOD OF a morTAL! Xheemden was screeching towards the end, the true tongue revealing his anguish and suffering.

Then what do I need you for? The Vessel for the Hallows clenched his fist, and the Lich's red-head-canister became clear, the head floating, rotting before their very eyes, its' soul sucked into the Ressurection Stone. Approaching Hadrian, the Albus spoke, Guard Our Lady's Chosen, he is completely exhausted, the purple light and halo left Albus' eyes as he swayed and fell backward into Hadrian's arms. The cavern drifting into an eerie silence, no one knowing what to say or do.

A/N:: Here is the next chapter, I hope it is clear that Hadrian and Albus while powerful, are not always right, nor are they always in the know about what is going on, expect time and other issues to be big ones, ones that will hopefully highlight the wizards as players who only know half the rules. Do leave reviews, I never understood how important they are until i became an author.

I thought to myself, would I sleep if there was no difference between day and night? If I couldn't measure time? No... I don't think I would as a victim of Seasonal Affective Disorder (It is hilarious that the acronym is SAD), It seemed like a really interesting way of experiencing life, you have no idea, how time has passed, in what way things have changed, how long anything takes, I expect it would all _blur together._

Expect the next chapter by the end of February. If you all leave me 20 substantive reviews, I will post the chapter sooner - it is without a doubt one of my favorite chapters. I am not above bribery.


	11. Il'sensagron (9,016)

11\. Il'sensagron (7843)

It turned out that the room that Hadrian had found earlier was in fact only a closet, and after frying the undead skeleton that had taken up residence there, Hadrian had confirmed that it was, in fact, one that had nothing in it. After running a litany of tests on the room, Hadrian had found that it was truly just a closet, it would not be large enough for anything but a single person to fit in, forget sleep in.

Luckily for him, there was no immediate rush, Hadrian had cast a ward of sealing over the portal, nothing would be getting in or out, he had proceeded to allow the remaining four dwarves, Rath'gar to enter, casting the Fidelius on the location, hiding the secret in his own soul. His work done, he descended down the steps to the trunk flat, finding the dwarves standing horrified at the sheer brightness of their temporary lodging.

After showing the dwarves the empty room and showing them how to operate the shower, Hadrian cast several cleaning charms on himself and Albus, allowing the older man to forgo the customary shower as he was currently unconscious. His diagnostic test showing the man was simply severely exhausted, pouring a deep sleep potion down the man's throat, taking one himself, Hadrian felt sleep claim him.

* * *

When he woke, he glanced at the sand-filled hourglass, one of the only things that seemed to work the same, noting that while the sand fell at a consistent pace, there was little to no way for Hadrian to measure how many sandglasses had been filled in the time that he had slept.

Thanks to the potion he had taken before sleeping, he felt refreshed, recharged, looking at Albus, he found that the man was still deeply asleep, it was time to see what everyone else had done. Rath'gar greeted him, the goblin having found his mini anvil, the one that Albus had put a permanent 8-foot sound-canceling ward on a, and was exchanging silenced words with the three surviving dwarves, the Orodûm, like Albus, still asleep.

Striding into the unsilenced space, Hadrian greeted the dwarves, who had removed their helms and tied off their eyes to prevent them from becoming damaged by earth like bright lighting.

"Greetings, are you well master Dazûm?" the dwarves in questions bowed their heads in greeting.

"Aye, we have been better, thank you for allowing us the use of your trunk. It is truly a masterful creation, one of the most masterful we have seen. We are all eternally grateful to you and your companions' assistance, if we will survive the quest, we will sing of your heroics." One of the Dwarves said.

"Would you share with me your names master Dazûm?" The dwarves glanced at each other, before nodding.

"I be Grimli of Clan Hardhammer," the red-headed stout dwarf replied.

"I be Hraim of Clan Stoneheart," the black-bearded dwarf replied.

"I be Bjar of clan Sharpaxe," The blond-haired dwarf bowed his head in acknowledgment.

"Were you aware of Otho's status as an Orodûm?" Hadrian asked curiously.

"It should be impossible, the Orodûm are all ancient, from before the cataclysm. Otho, though exceptionally skilled, is younger than me, he is only 45 craaga barely a man." Hadrian's eyebrows furrowed.

"Aye, though I understand why Otho hid it, he would be locked away, the other Orodûm are locked away, that the king even allowed one to witness the battle will bring bad light to Dhemdarum, many other cities do not even allow them to be seen. Otho is one of the best captains in the Dwarven Empire, skilled in fighting, always on the frontlines, I know he would never be allowed to go on another mission, it is most alarming, " that seemed to be all that the dwarves were willing to say on the topic. Hadrian for his part let it be, best have and offer them some food, and be grateful they viewed him as a brother in arms, as they would never allow him to see them with their masks off if that were not the case. Still he was curious to see what the dwarves would say about Midgardian Cuisine.

* * *

Albus awoke with a start. He did not remember how he got to be in the trunk, but it meant at the very least Hadrian was safe. Sliding his feet over the side of the bed, Albus was struck by a bout of vertigo. The Deathstick appeared in his hand, as he used the long smooth white elder wood staff to lift himself up, a purpose that he had not found himself using as much recently, the added power and strength his seemingly returning youth had made redundant.

Albus slowly made his way into the common areas, noting that the hourglass was partially full, though there was little to no indication of what that meant, the two men still did not understand the workings of time in this place, it was something they would have to be far more cognizant of. He had no idea how long he had been in the room, but he suspected that Hadrian would have the answers.

Albus sniffed. Bacon. He did love Hadrian's cooking. Striding into the kitchen area, Albus saw Hadrian and the Dwarves laughing alongside Rath'gar. Only three Dwarves were sitting at the table.

"Hello Albus." Hadrian spoke up, their laughter having died when he entered the room.

"Are you well Albus?" Rath'gar asked him cautiously.

"Quite, the rest did me well." He slowly made his way towards the table, "I think that it becomes more and more evident that I have been lax in my own training, what of Otho? " Albus' inquiry was met with glances all around.

"We will go and check on him now, prepare to move towards our true objective, we have already dallied far too much by stopping here. Who knows the dangers that might be stalking these halls for us every second we delay." Rath'gar, Bjar, Grimili, and Hraim all stood, and murmured thanks to Hadrian all departed.

Albus sat down in front of the plate of food that Hadrian had placed in front of him, chewing slowly on a bacon strip. Their expressions, why did they look at him with trepidation?

"Why is it they look at me with fear Hadrian?"

"Albus," Hadrian's voice held a hint of caution, "what exactly do you remember of the events that transpired?" The young man finished with a hint of resignation.

"I remember summoning the golems and falling to exhaustion, hoping you would have the strength to finish the Lich," Albus said, brow furrowed in thought.

"Albus, the Hallows used you as a vessel." Hadrian raised his eyes to meet the eyes of his mentor, pushing the memory of the fight forward. Albus' eyebrows furrowed, that was not what he had expected to hear.

"I am confused if I am honest, it has been a very long time since I have felt the effects of mental strain." Albus responded truly confused. I suspect that time here works very differently than what we are used to. Our minds are not able to deal with this place, yesterday magically I was fine, but mentally, it took all of will and focus to stay upright, forget summoning that ribbon of fire." Hadrian nodded

"I have been observing something similar, I suspect time here runs differently than earth, something that due to the structure of the time we spent in dhemdarum, we didn't observe as acutely. Here in the deep, since we have no indication of when to wake, when to sleep, nor the passage of time, we have increased risk of doing something like continuing on for days at a time, feeling like we are fine physically, but all the while, in reality, we are supporting ourselves with our magic, it is our minds that have been suffering. Our minds are not meant to deal with this kind of strain, we will have to be more careful." Albus nodded his head, stroking his increasingly blackening beard.

"I think we should get you some potions Albus, to clear your head, ease the strain, if it makes you feel better, I will take them too.  
" I think you are right Hadrian, I have little desire to collapse due to mental strain, and I have felt hints of exhaustion even now, something akin to dizziness. It has passed for now, I think that you are right however." Hadrian stood, smiling, "It is a good thing that you have already taken them," Hadrian looked down at Albus's empty plate, "is there anything else you would like to tell me Albus?" Hadrian had a serious look in his eyes, and Albus was flabbergasted, he had never quite had that look or that phrase directed at him.

"Well, actually Hadrian, when I almost touched the mirror, it was at the urging of the Hallows, Thoth told us that the Cloak of Invisibility was in the Realm of Eternal Night, and it seemed that the Hallows want to be united."

"Albus, these artifacts, they aren't always just objects, to be used and controlled. The more powerful and sentient ones have their own agenda, Eldingr has proven loyal and benign, the Eye of the Jotuun, it is merely tolerating my use of it. You cannot allow your concentration to waver, lest they make you a slave to their whim.

Albus and Hadrian were joined by the other Dwarves as it seemed that Otho had awoken, more resentful that his men were dead than the fact that the young dwarf's secret was out. The group gathered their strength, preparing themselves, well-fed, rested and armed. Hadrian took the opportunity to pull Rath'gar aside, the goblin's axes damaged beyond repair by the Lich's scythe. He felt compelled to do something for the goblin that had saved his life from the Lich.

"I wanted to thank you Rath'gar, You have in a short time done much to protect my life, I would not be standing here today if it were not for your interference and assistance." Hadrian drew the Fire sword from his Arcanists cloak, Handing it to the Goblin. "The Dwarven King gave this to Albus and I after we fought in the Surprise, " Hadrian gingerly placed the invaluable artifact in the Goblin Beserkar's hands, "It was due to interceding on my behalf that your own weapons were severely damaged, and so I would be honored if you would wield it," Hadrian saw the conflicting emotions flit across the Goblin's face.

The goblins were a proud race, they were at their cores collectors. They were lovers of the arcane, Goblins knew the value of something like what Hadrian had just placed in the Goblin prince's hands. Goblins would kill gratuitously for such an artifact, the honor of being paid by the bank for acquiring such artifact was enough of an incentive for a majority of Goblins. Gringotts had strict rules on the possession of Artifacts, and while they would allow for a goblin to acquire such an artifact, they would never allow such an object bought, to remain with the Goblin, even if that Goblin was the Goblin Prince. Freely given was powerful intent-based magic in its own way Hadrian knew the Goblins would never dare to take an Artifact that was freely given and bound by Wild Magic, so Hadrian planned on doing just that.

If you would be so inclined, I would like to pass the ownership of it to you with Wild Magic, no one will take it from you while you still draw breath. The Goblin looked at Hadrian with wonder, clearly touched by his willingness to part with such a grandiose gift.

"I would be honored if you would perform the ritual and bind the weapon to me." Hadrian nodded at Rath'gar. "Come, we have until Otho has eaten and the others are ready to leave, it is best we do it now".

* * *

Albus and Hadrian had led the group out of the trunk, locking and shrinking it, Hadrian placed the trunk back in his cloak, it was immediately apparent that something had found the room, the carcasses, reeking of undeath, were left untouched by the creatures that had come to investigate the sounds. The remaining group had been descending for what seemed to Albus and Hadrian as days, for truthfully there was no way of knowing, both had long given up on the tempus charm, which seemed was only useful on earth, and even between all of the collective knowledge they had between them, neither knew a time spell that would tell them the time in Svartalfheimr, and neither had really had the time to look. Their magic supported their bodies, allowing for less and less sleep the longer they stayed in the deep realm.

They had finally hit what they thought was the bottom, for the mine, though it went deeper, had no further stairs from which to descend.

Albus had sent Hadrian under a plethora of stealth spells to scout out the chamber and try to discover the path forward, it was important that they didn't get caught, and the dwarves were… problematic to say the least, with their magic resistance resisting any direct silencing charms or invisibility charms that Hadrian or Albus tried. Only the localized silencing wards that Albus and Hadrian had used in the descent working.

Hadrian snuck into the chamber, noting that there was a massive statue to what Hadrian assumed was the Many Tentacled One. Hadrian saw several illithid in the distance his mind hidden from their sight, for the few minutes he would be scouting the cavern. It seemed that the massive cavern was but an entrance to the much larger cult base, it was horrifyingly sparse, it seemed that a majority of the Cult's forces had been deployed in their assault on Dhemdarum, and now, they were on a skeleton contingent, the bare minimum forces required present. This was it.

Making his way back to the others by foot, Hadrian regretted that all of the forms of teleportation that he knew of, beyond line-of-sight-apparition which Albus had foolishly used in the Surprise of Dhemdarum, were potentially deadly when not in Midgard.

"We found it, even though we are down a little over half of our original group, how should we move forward?"

"We have the chance to set the Illithid back generations, we must take it," one of the Bjar said quietly.

"But what if we fail, Dhemdarum will never be able to succeed without the information we possess," Grimli countered calmly.

"What do you think my Orozûm?" Hrain asked Otho reverently. Hadrian's eyebrows raised as Otho seemed to sigh, though Hadrian could not see much, the Dazûm's face-plate hiding their true expressions.

"I have told you many times, I am only your captain, none can know of my magic, it would be chaos," Otho said with a grimace. "That said, I agree with Grimli, one of the group has to return to Dhemdarum, and tell them what we have discovered, but I suggest that we gather as much information as we can before we try and send a messenger."

"I agree," voiced Albus, "There is little that we know now that Dhemdarum does not, also, even at a full run, the journey will take too long, by the time any help can be had from Dhemdarum, it will have been far too late for us. Rath'gar and Hadrian nodded in agreement.

"It is decided then, we move onwards, and afterward, a runner will return to Dhemdarum, where we will appraise the army of the location of the Elder Brain while we try and slay the cult leader." The much-decreased company nodded in agreement, ready to try and do their part.

They made their way in, thin cutters, beheading the Illithid before they were able to realize what was happening, it was imperative that they complete as much of their search as possible before they were seen. The words of the Orozûm from the King's meeting echoing in their heads; "One mindflayer sees ye, and they all see. One mind. One nasty, suspicious mind." They had had the element of surprise, able to cut off the Illithid from their organizer, the Mythal being something that they were unable to anticipate, or deal with. Only the presence of Camerath and Lortiamus saving them from complete and immediate annihilation as they lost minds and morale in the void of solitude.

The seven moved forward butchering every Illithid they saw, never giving them the chance to even see who was cutting them down. The made their way through the mouth-like gateway of the statue of the Many Tentacled One, moving with surprising success through the tunnels. They spotted a room which seemed to have several Illithid guarding it, flicking his wand, Hadrian cast an Egyptian darkness spell, obscuring the entirety of the hallway from their enemies, as Albus and he lit up the hallway, wide-area slashing and pulverizing spells raining into the clouded hallway, the dwarves and Rath'gar watching dispassionately as the smoke cleared, the Illithid all dead.

It was an ordinary tunnel, one that leads away from the rest of the cult complex. It was the only one that they had seen or found that led away from the rest of the complex. The only one that Otho insisted ran east, the bits of glowing pink fungi only growing in the Caverns of Di'zzarmi. It was the lead that they had all been waiting for. Suddenly a roar shook the room, it seemed as if it came from everywhere, and everyone felt crippling horror as their minds processed what the roar was. It was a summons.

"That was a D-dragon's call," Albus said his knees buckling slightly.

"Bu-bu-but Albus how is that possible?"

"A Brainstealer Dragon," Otho's voice held a horror that summed up all of their feelings. " Albus spun on his heel, facing the company

"Grimli, Bjar and Hraim the three of you must return to Dhemdarum, Hadrian, Rath'gar, Otho and I will do our best to end the threat that this cult poses," immediately the three dwarves began to protest, but Otho stepped forward raising his hand.

"It is my will. Your captain has spoken. Go back to the king and report what you have seen here, all of it, tell them I what I posess, tell them a dwarf with Magic, is heading to fight the Elder Brain. Let the full might of the Dwarven army come to the caverns of Di'zzarmi, by the time the army has arrived, we will have hopefully already made our way there, either way, the three of you will serve as witnesses to this unbelievable story, hopefully enough to make the army move. Go." The three dwarves bowed their heads, turning around and clasping their hands to their chest, dipping their heads before turning on the spot and making their way out of the Cult base. Otho seemed sad to see them go.

"It had to be done, they have no role in what is likely to come, it has become clear why the Orozûm are so prized, Magic was the only thing that was able to fight the Lich from earlier, had I not hid my powers, perhaps some of my fellow Dazûm would have lived through the battle. My pride and fear of the consequences have kept me from using my powers, but you are right, against a Dragon, a Draac'hoon, nearly a God in itself, the Dazûm are nothing but fodder. Though we have little chance of survival - they had even less."

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. A god summons you mortals. The deep rumbling voice of the dragon smashed into their consciousness, all of them stumbling as their runes were activated by the forced mental connection.

Turning, Hadrian racked his mind, for any knowledge on the ancient dragons, true dragons, not lesser beasts that the ministries of the world pretended were the sum totality of the Draconis. Memories came forward, dragon-slaying magic was rare and far between, it would be no easy task, the Lich they had just defeated proved very little in the face of this threat, Albus and Hadrian had expected more Ulitharids, beings of strength, but nothing like a Brain Stealer Dragon. Reaching into his cloak, Hadrian withdrew one of the communication rings, passing it to the Orozûm who put it on without question. Hadrian also handed Rath'gar the other sword, the one made of the purified blood iron staff.

'These will allow us to securely communicate with each other in the heat of battle, fear not, Illithid have no chance of hearing our words here, it will also protect your minds, though whether it will hold up to a full assault from the likes of a High Dragon is yet to be seen. I am working on formulating a plan, do not start if you are surprised to hear my voice.' Hadrian spoke through the ring. Albus tapped his staff into the ground, murmuring, the rest of their party feeling refreshed as the mass healing spells refreshed them.

Hadrian's hands were his flickering one sigil after the other appearing and disappearing, the young man casting in a hurry, defending each of them as best he could, even his prodigious speed insufficient as they could feel the impatience in the air grow, the Dragon would not wait forever.

'Come, best face this next doom sooner rather than later.' Rath'gar's mental voice rang out. Sadly, Hadrian agreed. The way was presented to them, the sounds of screeching their guide. The quadlet found themselves standing in front of two massive black doors, easily over 300 feet tall, they looked too large to be moved. Hadrian approached them to As if by magic, the two doors opened. They felt their limbs turn to lead, Hadrian's mind raced as he struggled to come up with ideas, anything that would save them, there was little escape, the main shaft easily able to fit a dragon, and from the range they were currently at, it would be suicide to run.

The room was shaped like what Hadrian would describe as a cathedral, huge vaulting ceilings, the true top of which was lost to darkness, massive arches, higher than Hogwarts tallest spire towered over them. On all sides motifs of stone Illithid-headed winged gargoyles placed throughout the space.

It was the lighting that made the cavernous room so eerie, black flames that glowed white casting a black and white tint to everything, Dark Fire, manifest dark magic.

The four approached the dais, weapons drawn, there was no dragon in sight. Their hearts war drums thrumming in their ears, Hadrian noted that running through several of the stone structures was a softly glowing indigo vein, they were small, but Hadrian made sure, he brushed against the ones he saw. It would do no one any good to run low on magic, his Darhain cuffs glowing completely. A mental nod showed Albus had done much the same, every single spark of power they possessed would be needed.

There was a thunderous whoosh as the companions' hair and cloaks were blasted with displaced air, as the Brainstealer Dragon beat its wings and landed on the ground with a roar.

Hadrian's mind's defenses crumbled at the sheer size and image of the dragon in front of him. A single one of its eyes was his height, it had black scales, a pearlescent purple mixed into the scales, something that gave it an even more terrifying appearance. The dragon curled around them, Its 60 plus meter form dwarfing them immediately. Its tail curling absently around them, as it perched on its haunches, looking at the quadlet like a man looks at an ant. Claws were each the size of two men, and Its maw was horrifying, like a squid with nearly a hundred smaller tentacles, the Dragon's glowing red eyes sparked like rubies as it looked balefully down at them.

Screeeeeeeeeeeeccchhhhh You are interfering pests, insurmountable amounts of planning ruined!. The dragons' telepathic screech rang in their minds, its anger palpable, Hadrian found his hand's trembling as even Eldingr's trusty presence did not fill him with the confidence it normally did.

Roaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrhhhhhhhh. I will greatly enjoy devouring your minds. It opened its cravenous mouth, the massive face tentacles that it sported flaring out in agitation as its horrifyingly sharp-looking teeth glinted in the black-and-white lighting of the cavern. Albus cast his reality expansion spell, trying to give them more space with which to fight the dragon.

| | Sgra'himlaa Grovimaat Mahooomaje, brormkromm Gazooov'a! | | Hadrian's incanted spell and gestures were lost in the cacophony of the dragon's roar, its maw opened wide. The sigils that he had flickered into creation, clear, almost mirror-like as he cast the ancient spell, no Potter in ten generations had felt the need or inclination to cast. The crimson light glowing in stark contrast to the Brainstealer Dragon's dark pearlescent scales, the light of its impending attack glinting on every reflecting surface in the massive room.

Hadrian heard nothing as the dragon opened its mouth, crackling red energy erupting from its mouth. All sound fading away as Hadrian stepped in front of his companions, placing himself between the others of the party even as their weapon's dipped, accepting their fate while Hadrian flexed his fingers, and pushed his power outward.

What burst from the dragon's maw was nothing short of a maelstrom, more lightning than fire, pure unadulterated psychic magic, fueled by the Illithid dragon's ocean of power. Hadrian doubted any shield a mortal was capable of casting would hold up to this potent magic. All of the glowing veins of white magic criss crossing across the floor dimmed, their magic spent. The air in front of him cracking, splitting as reality buckled under Hadrian's spell.

The magic passed through the place they were standing, seemingly traveling straight, but bending around Hadrian and his companions. The Dragon kept on unleashing a torrent of magic from its maw. Albus and the other's watched in awe as they were surrounded by the jagged red magic, yet it never reached them.

Hadrian had added a triangle to reality, a triangle in which, the Dragon could not interact, as far as the rest of reality was concerned, the Dragon's fire had passed through where they had just been, because Hadrian had broken the fabric of space-time in this ten by ten by ten perfect triangle, a shimmering blip in reality.

An out of phase prism in reality, one where the dragon was literally incapable of reaching them. There would forever be a section of reality that both existed and both did not. It was permanent and dangerous, for had Hadrian failed to cast it, he would have eternally punctured a prismic whole in the fabric of time space for ever more, a vacuum to the void, and entrance to whatever wanted to come into the material world.

The dragon roared in triumph, and had anyone been in a laughing mood, the sound of utter shock and confusion that it made when it saw that they were unaffected would have sent them into peals of laughter. Sadly, Hadrian and his companions were all too busy not dying to find anything about their situation amusing.

It was a strange thing the spell Hadrian had used, it appeared that they were in a prismatic realm, three sides of the triangle based prism showing similar perspectives, but simply from different angles. The Dragon's tail flew at their spot as it tried physical domination where its breath weapon had failed. The tail appearing to strike on all three sides of the triangle simultaneously as the reality-bending magic made the dragon both strike where it intended and miss them all the same.

RAAAAHHHHHHHHH. What sorcery is this? The dragon unleashed another torrent of the red lightning on their location to little effect.

'We will be safe here momentarily, but the second that we step out of this triangle, we will be back to the same conundrum of how not to be vaporized by the dragon,' Hadrian said gravely, the others' shock not bringing him the least bit of satisfaction as he understood the situation they were in.

'We need to scatter, if we are grouped together, then we will make for an easy target,' Rath'gar said seriously.

'I can try and pin its feet,' Otho added

'I will give it something else to fight off,' Albus said with a dangerous glint in his ice-blue eyes.

'Good, now Albus, I need you to cast a timed blinding spell on all of us, timed to end in 5 seconds, I am going to cast a sun flare spell outside of the Prism on the count of three, then we need to scatter as it should be blinded momentarily.'

'Dragon joints are weak, any place where their scales have a gap, strike there, Divine artifacts should be able to penetrate the dragons' hide, still it may end up being more like trying to kill an armored man with a toothpick, easier said than done, ' Albus added.

'It was an honor,' Otho said grimly, nodding his assent to the plan.

'One,' Hadrian began pulling his magic inwards, preparing to unleash it in what would hopefully be an effective manner against the massive dragon. Albus enacted his spell, all four of their vision going blank.

'Two,' Hadrian cast the spell, though no one was able to see it, the cavern glowed white as the power of the sun flared blinding the dragon who screeched his anger.

'Three' Albus ended his spell, and they all separated. Albus line of sight apparating upwards to the edge of one of the arches. Rath'gar ran to the left, Otho to the right, but Hadrian simply stepped backwards and looked up at the dragon, spelling himself invisible, removing his head signature, scent, and silencing himself, Hadrian stood perfectly still.

The dragon bucked as it screeched in outrage, flailing about madly as it experienced sightlessness for the first time. Albus transfiguring and animating all of the statues into the room, each of the fifty or so statues grew to gargantuan proportions. Another flick, and an unbreakable spell was layered into their forms, Albus swung his wand like a conductor, and they all attacked the flailing dragon's joints and eyes, Long lances of stone being transfigured from loose pieces of stone.

The dragon snarled, smashing through the statues as if Albus had not just charmed them unbreakable, snapping one of the offending animations in half, the stone crumbling under its massive face tentacles. Another dozen fell as its tail seeped into one another, the dragon leaping onto them, crushing the offending statues with its massive body.

Another row of the now dwindling soldiers were quelled as it unleashed a torrent of magic at its stone quarry. Every piece of rubble transforming into still another animal, each throwing themselves at the massive dragon. Their army was running out of reinforcements.

Not wanting Albus to be alone in his effort, Otho bent down his hand's flush with the ground, as he took command of the dwarves birthright, the ground rumbled, before massive stone hands exploded from the ground, wrapping around the dragon's flailing neck and pulling down to the ground, a muzzle forming around the dragon's head.

Rath'gar seeing his opportunity leaped from his hiding place with a shout of "Uk grat'ma gaar berserka'gh!" as his entire form channeling his Berserka'gh powers, his blood sword glowing a dark red even as his armor and skin blossomed with bloodrunes as the Goblin gave into his berserking rage. Dawnbreaker glowed an orangy yellow as he ran, charging forward. The goblin leaped onto the earthen elemental constructs that Otho was struggling to use to bind the dragon and stabbed them with dawnbreaker, magma bubbling forth as he removed the mythic sword. Rath'gar ran up the dragon's face and stabbed it in the eye, the eye exploding, covering the goblin in vitreous humor and blood, the clear jelly covering his face and skin. HE felt it burn.

The dragon bellowed, muzzled though it was by the stone, Rath'gar found his previously steady perch slick with fluids, and before he could make a move to eliminate the creature's other eye, the dragon screamed in pain. Where the stones did little, the loss of its eye was too excruciating, not to mention humiliating for the scaled titan to remain silent. The sheer force of its roar blasting back Rath'gar and Otho in the sonic aftermath of the roar, both shouting as the mage armor and other protections burned them both, the backlash were far too strong to simply shrug off. Backlash aside, both Dwarf and Goblin felt pride in their accomplishments, both of them had already completed their goals, they lay on the ground, a dozen feet away from where the dragon churned, struggling against its bonds as it happened.

From inside the hands of Otho, cracks formed, cracks from which glowed like a volcanic tube, suddenly with a crack, out bubbled magma. The dragon flailed helplessly as the magma burned its' neck and face.

Hadrian had been watching the events unfold, seeking to add his own binding to the dragon. Realizing that the magma while damaging had weakened the strength of the bonds, that any second the scaled monstrosity would break free of the massive ancient oak-sized stone bindings, he twisted from where he had prepared a rather complex spell, abandoning it in favor of teleporting to his companions.

Appearing over Rath'gar and Otho's downed bodies, he brought forth a golden dome just as the dragon's razor-sharp tail slammed into the shield, piercing it with a sound of grating metal.

Hadrian gritted his teeth as the dragon's tail struck, again and again, more and more holes appearing throughout his construct even as Otho and Rath'gar watched on in horror, Rath'gar's rage momentarily broken by both the pain of the dragon blood and vitreous humor covering him fear he had felt as he had realized what had nearly become of him

Suddenly, Albus' transfigured golem interrupted the standoff, A massive sword of stone wielded by the goliath animated gargoyles slamming into the dragon's impenetrable tail. Any other creature would have been bisected, its limb shorn from its body by the strike, but they were fighting a true dragon, the very creatures after whom the first Elves first developed armor from. The sworded golem was not alone in its attack, another's stone ax slammed into its hind leg, a crack audible throughout the cavern.

Albus' massive construct's attacks doing extreme blunt force damage, though it would have no chance of breaking the dragon's hide. They could see the Dragon's agony and none would be shamed in admitting that the High Dragon's pain and fear for its life brought them hope. Hope that the dragon feared its life because they were capable of killing it.

Had the Brainstealer dragon attacked Dhemdarum, they would have likely fallen, they were able to fight it here because there was no risk of friendly fire. The Dragon began glowing, and with a flick, Hadrian discarded the shield that had blocked the highly magical creatures attacks, blasting the two towards Albus' who caught them with a wandless gesture.

With a roar, the dragon snapped its bindings, freeing itself from the temporary prison Otho and Rath'gar had made, the dragon was burned, but not to the degree that Hadrian had hoped after seeing the spell in action. Now they had a bigger problem. The dragon beat its wings, the stone hands shattering under the force of its blow. Lava flying everywhere as the dragon roared its rage, Hadrian felt his armor burn him as the molten lava spattered against his armor. The Dragon's already beady red eyes glowing mad with rage.

'We need to trap it again, if it takes to the skies, only two of us will be any use!' He felt his three companions agreement as they all burst into action, Otho summoning massive jagged spikes of earth, the spires piercing the dragon's wings, even as it beat them to lift off. The dragon's screech drove fear into the minds of the group, Hadrian's spell dissolving as he shored up his mental defenses. Albus' creations froze for the second it took for him to shake off the fear. Otho gasped, stumbling back in horror even as Rath'gar swayed on his feet, his rage flickering as he was overwhelmed by the inevitability of trying to defeat this monstrosity, the fear effect it had just tried to use nearly crippling his own will to fight.

Albus stood on the top of the arch, watching as Rath'gar seemed to be struggling, even from the distance that's between him Rath'gar and the others, with the power of his magically enhanced sight, Albus could tell that his companion was struggling to move, he seemed to be struggling to maintain his rage.

'Hadrian, something is wrong with Rath'gar.'

'What?'

'Yes, he is afflicted with something, I am too far away to help him with any certainty.' Albus saw Hadrian turn to Rath'gar, and suddenly the goblin's red aura was glowing even more strongly than before.

'He was covered with Dragon blood and the insides of the eye that he ruptured.' Hadrian explained.

'It must have been excruciating.'

RAAARRRRRRRR. Enough! I am the Dragon Il'sensagron, I am the Dragon child of the Ilsensine, I am the devourer of minds. Do you dare to presume yourself worthy of attacking a being such as me? I shall enjoy feasting on your minds! The Dragon exploded, it moved in a blur as it took down the last few animations, its presence pressing down on the four mortals. All four were suddenly struck with such all-consuming terror that they froze, they were unable to do anything but contemplate their own worthlessness.

The single eye of the dragon looked on them all, its mouth tentacles growing longer, as it took its time relishing the terrifying emotions of its prey. These were far from the ordinary beings it was able to devour, he would relish the two mortals most of all.

* * *

Albus blinked, finding himself laying in the fields of his mindscape, looking out to the black lake, he lay under a tree, relaxed, at peace, no hint of the terror he had just been confronted with. He felt a weight on his chest. Blinking he looked down to see a purple-clad woman, enchanting and beautiful staring at him. The two purple orbs of fire shining powerfully.

"Dear Albus, why did you not heed my Hallow's request," Her voice was like the sweetest of melodies.

"I am sorry milady, but how could I abandon Hadrian and the others?" Albus found himself distracted by her hand, absently playing with the edge of his robes.

"Do you know the true reason you have been vulnerable?" She asked quietly.

"I am mortal milady, it is our greatest strengths that are also our greatest weaknesses." She looked at him amused.

"I think you know that is only partially true, you are special Albus. But more importantly, you are mine and I am yours, you might not know it yet, but you are most dear to me. " She sighed, sitting up to look at him, the scent of jasmine washing over him as she leaned forward again, Albus was surprised that she was so warm, so comforting, he was not a young man, it had been a lifetime since he had cared about such trite things as physical attraction, this was more, though he would not deny that the attraction was there as well. It was her magic, it called to him. His magic called to her. She was alluring, beautiful, but in ways that transcended something he had long ago abandoned. Still, he could not deny the spark, the smallest part of a fire that he had long since thought dead with age that glowed at the sight of her.

"The Hallows each have a role, the Wand is your weapon, the Stone is your might, but the cloak, the cloak is your mantle. Understand, the Wand, the Stone, they will protect you, see your will be done, but that is not their task, it is not their reason. That duty lies solely with the cloak. Repeatedly dearest, they try and trap you, to use your mortality and crush you, and they manage to do so only because you yet lack protection."

The Lady of Death leaned in, her breath hot on his face, "Oh and Albus? When you have failed to defeat your enemies with your martial might, why have you not resorted to your powers of trickery, a poor showing for a Slytherin Albus. Your friends need you, aid them." She closed the distance and as Albus was flung back into his body, he felt the phantom warmth of her lips on his.

* * *

Hadrian felt all of what his failure would wroght, the doom of Midgard due to his own weakness, and felt for the first time ever, a longing to simply be free of it. Il'sensagron would take him, that he very much knew, he was alone, there was no hope, for he was nothing compared to the might of the Dragon.

'Hadrian!' Albus' voice echoed out at him, coming from inside of him. Another voice to the many he would hear cry out as they were devoured he guessed.

'I never thought you were one for self pity Hadrian. Did you not make me a promise to accompany me through this? The Potter of Elvish blood, the wielder of Eldingr, so much you have done and so much more you have to do, let us not yet despair, my lady has freed my mind, and I have freed yours. The dragon is indeed mighty, a horror that none should have to bear witness to, and one that none alone have hope of defeating, but there is one weak spot that we had yet to try attacking, the maw of the Dragon, and now Hadrian, you shall get your chance, you must not show it that you have awakened, for nothing can save you if it decides to simply kill you rather than devour you.'

'Show me Albus.' Hadrian's mind quaked with restrained fury. This thing had nearly made him abandon the only family that he had left to fear of all things.

Suddenly Hadrian saw through Albus' eyes, the dragon, in all of its colossal glory towered over him, he appeared to be little more than a mouse in the grasp of a tiger, hopelessly outmatched. Eldingr, was pointed straight up in his hands, the wand in front of him, his image frozen in the moment of casting.

The Dragon's colossal maw opened, revealing twelve massive tentacles, like a massive net, its maw draconic and horrifying nonetheless. The dragon was surprisingly careful, it bent down, its mouth lined up, its teeth opening closer and closer, thirty feet, twenty, ten, eight, the tentacles cloaked him, from sight as he was assaulted with the stench of decaying greymatter, how many had this monster devoured? It took every bit of control that Hadrian possessed to not move as he was nearly engulfed.

Cloaked on all sides by the beast's tentacles, Hadrian's eyes flickered blue, before exploding, two twin suns of swirling celestial fire, he felt Eldingr's readiness, its desire to aid him, to destroy this worthy foe.

"ELDINGR!" He bellowed needing no other incantation, relying only on his wand, his Power. He felt the drain, drawing from his gauntlet, he did not need to see it to know row after row of the charged diamonds was extinguished, surrendered to Eldingr, their only hope. Everything froze, and then there was a flash, the mother of all lightning bolts exploded from his wand, the bolt of a true thunderer. Then came the thunderclap, Hadrian alone unaffected as the head of the dragon exploded. Torn apart by the concussive pulse that followed the bolt.

The dragon collapsed, it's head blown apart, leaving twelve perfect marks on the ground, where the afterimages of the tentacles had been etched into the ground. The body falling at his feet, shaking the very cavern. All of the light in the cavern dimming as it seemed the universe paid homage to the dead demigod. They knew that if they had not already made an enemy of Ilsensine, they had just done so.

All of them stared at the Dragon's body It was Hadrian that began laughing first, Albus' voice joining his, Otho's baritone and Rath'gar's cackle joining together as they slumped to their feet, they had just done the impossible, they had slayed a dragon. They were all Dragon slayers.

Hadrian stared at the massive corpse, his laughter dying away as he looked at the giant body in front of him. Turning to Albus, who had apparated to Hadrian and the others, abandoning his position on the parapets. Hadrian stroked his face, stubble surprisingly growing on it as he thought of something that he had begun to enjoy far more than he probably should, an obviously nefarious grin spreading on his face. Looting.

"What is it Hadrian?" chuckled Albus.

"Tell me Albus, do you happen to know the spell to harvest dragon skin and heart? Blood?" Albus blinked shaken out of his laughter, "because I think that an Illithid High Dragon, especially the progeny of the Many Tentacled One's leather, scales, blood, heart strings, and the like could be tremendously valuable in our efforts to destroy the Elder Brain.

Albus' mouth widened into a out of place grin, maniacal almost, causing Hadrian to take a step back as he looked at his friend in surprise.

"Oh Hadrian, and here I was thinking I was the only Slytherin here." Hadrian simply raised an eyebrow, Albus Dumbledore, a Slytherin? Now that would give some people back home constipation.

"Well?" Hadrian asked inquisitively, their companions lost at their disjointed exchange.

"I did discover the twelfth use of Dragon's blood as you well know Hadrian, yes I know the spells." Albus drew his wand, and pulling out a portable ward stone, one that would give them the time they needed, undisturbed as it were, Albus slashed his hand looking at Hadrian's surprised expression.

"Yes, well it has become an issue my lack of knowledge on your precious blood magic, I took the time to learn some after Dhemdarum." Albus responded dryly. "This will give us some time, we had best get to work." It seemed that their respective exhaustion had been curtailed for the time being, there was much work to be done.

* * *

Unlike Gorzoth, they did not just attempt to take everything, the body was highly magical, and resisted magic, meaning they had to burn through much of the magic they had stored in their Darhain Cuffs, and other artifacts, to get the job done, but Albus and Hadrian had managed to get the entire skeleton, excluding the head of the High Dragon, which unbelievably survived mostly intact, an unbelievable amount of its blood, several thousand meters of its hide and scales, some of its teeth that the Rath'gar and Otho had found scattered here or there. Additionally they found something far more valuable than even the priceless Dragon's carcass, its hoard.

It was a small hill of gold, silver, mithril, other metals of unknown quality, various sized jewels, and perhaps most importantly, several baskets full of Argatham. Albus had promptly packed it away, not giving Hadrian the chance to touch the raw magic. Hadrian seemed far too interested in it for him to not worry about the young man's intentions.

Illithid or not Il'sensagron was still a dragon, and dragons liked shiny things. So they separated it into six trunks, four equal shares of the random gold, jewels, artifacts or the like. The materials, the Argatham and the likes, Hadrian and Albus kept in the other two trunks, it was of little use to the Goblin Prince personally, and the Orozûm had already gotten the largest prize imaginable as far as he was concerned, he had assisted in slaying the Dragon Il'sensagron, he did not see the need to deny his companions whatever they desired. Neither he nor Rath'gar had any way to carry any of the valuables beyond what the two Wizards allowed, Rath'gar's expanded bag was far too small to carry anything beyond the necessities he had brought. It was a king's ransom, and both men enjoyed the stunned looks when they had handed a trunk each to their two non-wizard companions.

"You would share this treasure?" Otho asked shocked. Rath'gar looked like he too was doubting their sanity. Albus simply looked at Hadrian, waiting for him to answer their companion's incredulously.

"As far as I am concerned, Hadrian Potter and Albus Dumbledore alone did not do battle with Il'sensagron, why should we claim all of its riches." Both Goblin and Dwarf were more touched by the men's generosity than they showed, both graciously accepting their gifts.

"Albus, is that square stone supposed to do that?" Otho's baritone voice broke them out of their respective reprises. The wardstone was glowing rather alarmingly, the last of the magic burning up as the temporary wards finally burned the

"Ah I think it would be best for us to depart, soon the wards on this place will fall, and I very much doubt that we will want to wade through an ocean of creatures that will soon be drawn here by Il'sensagron's death." Albus said to the other three companions, all of whom were still smiling, their eyes light in the face of their most recent victory.

"So, where to next?" Hadrian asked.

"The way to the caves of Di'zzarmi, it passes through the land of the Drow, we will need to travel through the lands around Kaazril and the realm of the Dark Elves."

"After you then my good sir." Hadrian said with a grin, the eerie silence of the cathedral-like a cavern deafening in its own way.

**A/N**: Hello, sorry for the long wait, work with this coronavirus has become a bit of a nightmare, I will do my best to get you another chapter within the month, but we shall see, depending on how this thing goes, I might end up with even less time to write than before.

Now hope you liked this chapter, it was probably my favorite to write, an actual dungeon boss. I have to admit I needed out a bit with some of the really random magic I tried to use. More on Rath'gar and Otho later, they will have more character development not in the next chapter but in the one after that. Expect another shift in location, before we even get to the Caverns of Di'zzarmi.

Now some of you complain about action scenes, and while I am always interested in what you have to say, I like writing them, so enjoy another one or don't, but it was very fun to write.

Now to respond to some of your comments.

Guest- "Don't know if you will see this but I would assume you would die or develop a way to tell ' time' '' I see everything. Thanks for the comment, and expect the time thing to continue to be explored.

Eltz - I try very hard, I don't plan on forgetting them, but I try and focus on what Hadrian and Albus can handle and actually find out,

X2leoj - He has to be named Hadrian because the name Hadrian because "Hadrian energetically pursued his own Imperial ideals and personal interests. He visited almost every province of the Empire, accompanied by an Imperial retinue of specialists and administrators. He encouraged military preparedness and discipline, and he fostered, designed, or personally subsidized various civil and religious institutions and building projects'' The Potter family is pureblood, also, in my brain they come from roman roots. Now as they come from roman roots, and I have an Ancient Mediterranean studies background, Naming Harry after a roman emperor, one who was also an adventurer, but more relevantly one who was an avid student, brilliant military tactician and belonged to the Nervan-Antonine dynasty was something I liked the symbolism. If you are asking whether it is because I don't like Harry, I mean who does? But also, think of the Harry in this story; a Ravenclaw, with the memories of some of the most powerful and learned Wizards in history, wielding an immortal weapon, a magical heir to the political influence Dumbledore wields... there are a lot of parallels between him and the Emperor of Rome. 

Chase-A, praxis shadow, Bubblekam, EmeraldGuardian7, EmeraldGuardian7, ZacS, eurospawn - thanks for the kind comment, Check your pms, I sent you a present.

Rhet1980 - "(...) Anyways back to your fic. I liked that you've shown Harry's power while acknowledging Dumbledore's skill. I've yet to see a WBWL fic where it comes out relatively early in the fic that Harry is actually the BWL and the consequences of that. So perhaps, show the WW or even James/Lily, etc reacting to the realization that they've been praising the wrong boy all along." - First, let Hadrian and Albus find their way back to the wizarding world, then you will have all that you ask and much much more.

To the reviewer that commented that I was forgetting basic punctuation, around some of the demons/creatures, thanks, it was deleting random things like so thanks.


	12. The Court of the Spider Queen (12,625)

**12\. Kingdom of the Dark Elves**

Albus stared down the shaft of one of the arrows that was knocked and pointed at the four companions. It was one of several dozen such projectiles. The group had been making their way through the caverns, towards where Otho had assured them the caverns of Di'zzarmi were located. Albus and Hadrian worked hard to create a sand clock, one that the two men used a plethora of monitoring spells on, it was they suspected how the original tempus worked in the first place. It allowed them the semblance of time, and boy did they love not feeling the mental strain of staying up so long, they now had a rough estimation of how many hourglasses they had between sleep cycles, and it was making their journey far smoother.

The group even with all of their detection wards and detection magics did not notice the drow drop from where they had been hidden in the shadows above into a closed circle around them, but they most certainly had noticed the drawn arrows. Otho stepped forward, Albus and Hadrian both readying their magic to deflect the projectiles should these drow prove the type that wanted to kill them. Svartálfar the black Elves, denizens' of Svartalfheimr.

"I am the Dazûm Otho. I am on a mission for Rurolir Flintmain, Deeplord, Lord of _Dhemdarǔm_. We seek passage to the Caverns of Di'zzarmi." One of the drow stepped forwards, the shadows seemingly clinging to him,

"We know who you are _Orzûmar_, the Deeplords have contacted us, they demand that we _escort you_ to our city. It seems they are here to decide your fate, the emissaries are waiting to _receive _you in the city of Da'kaath, so if you would please..." The drow's silky voice trailed off, the surrounding drow turning as one, creating a clear and singular direction for the group to move.

'What shall we do?' Hadrian asked the others, they had grown accustomed to the mental speech and connection. In the several small skirmishes that they had had after the slaying of Ilsensagron.

'Why are we pandering to the drow's demands? We have our path, why stray?' Rath'gar had a hint of bloodthirstiness to his contribution that the others had grown to appreciate about the smaller goblin.

'We must go with them, if the deeplords are summoning me, I have no choice but to obey." Otho decided for them.

'It would be best if we did not antagonize them or the other dwarves, we are few, we will easily be able to cover far more ground than the Dwarven army will be able to, this could perhaps be the right opportunity to settle this, and additionally see the kingdom of the Dark Elves.' The diplomat in Hadrian was showing Albus thought proudly.

'I believe it is decided,' Albus replied calmly after feeling the other's agreement, silently leading the way down the path the Drow had opened. They would go to Kaazril, the court of the Spider Queen.

* * *

The drow city of Da'kaath was hauntingly beautiful. Hadrian doubted he would ever see anything quite like it again.

Black obsidian made up the walls, the buildings carved from the same dark stone that made up most of Svartalfheimr, the difference being the neon blue light that illuminated sections of the city. It cast long and flickering shadows throughout, ones he was sure the drow used to shadow travel, an ability for which the drow were famous, and which they had likely used to get the jump on Hadrian and the others before.

The buildings seemed like they would be right at home with the more gothic styles that some surface side had used, high arches, intricate filigree, it was craftsmanship that was elegant, intricate, but perhaps most strikingly beautiful. Ponds with glittering algae, glittering as they approached the massive, two-foot thick iron gate, it glimmered off of the torchlight, the darkness of its color lending to an interesting visual effect. Hadrian knew how important the darksight spell he had cast on Dumbledore and himself had been, for the entire beauty of the city of Da'kaath was in the darkness.

It didn't stop him however from feeling a sense of trepidation; the Deeplords had sent for Orzûm, they had sent emissaries, one had even come himself. The following interactions were going to be life-altering for their new friend, and none really wanted the free-spirited, disciplined warrior dwarf to end up in chains.

The Orzûm were characteristically the most precious dwarves. They were as such virtually imprisoned by the others of their kind for their "protection", they were the only ones with access to their magic and thus invaluable. Otho was a young dwarf, one that was in his prime, one who many would seek to control and even more would want to understand and hope to influence. For the return of magic to a part of the dwarven populations was something that would change everything for the dwarves.

Hadrian walked forward feeling the comforting presence of Albus. The stone floor beneath their feet, leading them through a winding path, over a bridge, and through the main gate of the drow city, Otho had identified as Da'kaath, the realm of the Spider Goddess.

He noted that the city seemed to have a haze over it, one that the closer he got, he realized were webs. _Spider webs_. Shuddering, he cast a subtle anti arachnid ward localized on his person. Albus felt his extremely subtle casting, and Hadrian had a distinct impression that his older friend was amused. It wasn't that he personally had arachnophobia, but rather that the nature of a city covered in spiderwebs sent a shiver down his spine.

The small party's path led them up and through the streets, the thin webs growing thicker, above the buildings, like a ceiling made of spiderwebs, it was Hadrian noted, a rather effective traffic control mechanism. The streets were mostly clear, and the larger arachnid shadows he could see moving with ease and speed through the tube-like enclosure of webs were disconcerting, to say the least.

They made their way through the streets, passing drow, armored in a rather large variety of armors, ranging from gleaming golden armor, to what seemed to be hairy pelts and bone scale armors. It seemed that everyone was armed here. Even the few children that they spotted sported daggers and the like. They passed a market, one that sported all varieties of mushrooms and foods.

Food - it was something that Hadrian and Albus had been alarmed to learn when researching the Du'at. A single pomegranate seed could spell their end more assuredly than nearly of the threats they faced. Food had a magic of its own and in such otherworldly locals, it was something that Hadrian and Albus' should have been far more careful of. Hadrian had been stuck with a memory that felt like it had happened a lifetime ago; when Albus and he had been preparing for their descent into the underworld, they had seen repeatedly throughout many of the mythos' that they had consulted the warning that a single _drop_ of underworld water or underworld food would bind you and your body to the underworld for eternity. It was a strange nuance of the underworld realms, but one that Hadrian and Albus had luckily not run afoul of in Dhemdarum when they joined the Dwarven king for is a feast. It appeared that Svartalheimr was not an underworld as such, but another world, such restrictions did not exist here.

The millions of webs stretching across the entire city all led to the same destination; the palace, Kaazril, the Court of the Spider Queen. which happened to be the very place they found themselves in front of. The Drow here were all richly and formally dressed. It was clear that these were the elite. Hadrian's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what guarded the palace doors with a massive pike. Two centaur-like beings stood, Drow from the waist up, dark skin, white hair, and massive arachnid from the waist down. Their sharp eyes capturing everything as the group approached, the drow that had spoken to them earlier, moving towards the ten-foot armored part-spiders with no fear in his countenance.

'What are those?' Hadrian asked the rest of the group curiously.

'They are Driders.' Otho's voice responded in Hadrian's mind, 'They are the cursed drow, cursed by their spider goddess for failing in some task or another, made bloodthirsty, they are allowed to keep their memories and personalities from their lives as drow, but they are cursed with a deep sense of shame, hatred, and a fear that makes them the most violent of hunters, they will do anything to kill their mark, death to them is the absolution of their sin,' Otho's commentary garnered little response from the other three, for what could they say? The drow were not like them. Who were _they_ to judge a completely different group of people by their standards and ways?

The two massive drider opened the Palace doors, the two iron gates swinging open revealing an extremely elegant, but still somehow spooky entrance hall. There were motifs of spiders everywhere. The dusky-skinned drow guards were all garbed in brilliant gold armor, after the dwarves of Dhemdarum's response, Hadrian had not expected much in the way of the drow people's stability. It appeared he was once again wrong.

The picture was becoming more and more muddied, the drow and the dwarves had each imprisoned the other in their long history, that much he had figured out, but the intricacies of their cultural-political relationship was beyond him.

Following the others into the hall, Hadrian noted the sheer number of silken tapestries and rugs were incredible, though he supposed, if acromantula silk was worth as much as it was, then the millions of domesticated acromantulas would at the least supply the drow with an abundance of the silk.

Hadrian closed his eyes, sensing the abundance of lifeforms moving around them, above them, below the group as they were led deeper and deeper into the intricate web-like maze of the palace. The drow stopped in front of a massive intricate set of doors.

"You are about to enter the court of the Spider Queen, daughter of the Great Weaver. It would behoove you to remember your place as a guest in her court," the drow, it seemed, lacked any confidence that they would behave themselves.

"We are honored to be allowed into the Spider Queen's court. We will speak to her of your hospitality during your escort," Albus' smooth voice seemed to end any and all fear that the drow had over their behavior potentially affecting him and his continued existence. There was a booming as the doors opened with a groan.

Albus felt more than saw Hadrian's awe at the beauty of the court, the walls, though made from the same material that everything else they had seen had seemed to be made of, they were worked in a unique manner, the lattice on the walls, it was more than even what the greatest of weavers could hope to achieve. The drow had clearly learned from their arachnid companions the art of the lattice, for surely no two-handed being could ever achieve that level of perfection in their creation.

He like Hadrian had his breath catch in his throat as he beheld the beauty that was the _Spider Queen. _Her skin was a pale grey, not unhealthy looking, but nearly ethereal, she literally glowed with inner power. Her face was youthful and elegant, a Mithril crown glittering across her face, highlighting her two elven ears, each a four-inch sharp arrowhead shape. Her lips were a maroon red that even from the distance that Albus stood at the base of the Royal Dias were alluring. It seemed that from the waist down she had the thorax and legs of a spider, a strange glittering armor protected her pointed legs.

But in looking at her, Albus detected something that surprised him, a thrum of power in the air, one that had he not just fought Il'sensagron he would never have noticed. Albus' eyes narrowed.

'Do you feel that Hadrian?'

'It feels like Il'sensagron.' Hadrian's eyes narrowed slightly as well.

"All hail Neitea Tlintuil, High-Queen of the Drow, Daughter of the First- Weaver Neith," a voice from behind the group boomed. A course of '_hail'_ resounded in the hall.

'That explains it,' Hadrian said cautiously.

'What?' replied Albus.

'Neith,- it is an uncommon name, normally referring to one of the goddesses said to _weave_ into creation many races, there are several mentions and depictions of her on the walls of Dhemdarum.'

'A demigoddess then,'

'Quite, that explains the aura, we are indeed fortunate that Il'sensaron was far from what this spider queen seems to be in power, we would never have fared so well had he taken us seriously,'

'Indeed,'

"Welcome travelers, it has been far too long since I have seen the men of Midgard in my court," the Queen looked at the pair with surprise, and an emotion neither could pick up on. "My, my! Two men of Midgard, both Demon Slayer _and now _Dragon Slayer. Most interesting, it is rare to find one of the accursed that remains after so long," Albus and Hadrian flinched, they had foolishly forgotten the invasion of privacy that their soul magics presented any time they interacted with more powerful entities, the casual reminder of a degree of visibility into their lives and past was unsettling.

"Greetings your highness, Albus said, stepping forward, we thank you for your hospitality, may we ask why we have been escorted here? I am sure your highness is aware of the current Illithid issue that the Dwarven people are currently journeying to combat."

"Yes, as I am sure you have been informed, the Dwarves are under the impression that the Dazûm captain is an Orzum, our peoples have evolved past fighting each other in the years since the Cataclysm, and our separation from the other races. We have a long history together. They enslaved us, we enslaved them, the like, now we are allies," the Queen gestured to the side, where amongst a rather sizable population of what Albus suspected were Drow Nobility, there were a decent-sized group of Dwarves, Ambassadors he suspected based off of their more regal attire.

"The truth of that allegation remains to be seen, but the kings of the dwarven people rarely agree on anything, and if they all find themselves in agreement, who am I to disagree over something involving one of theirs. They have summoned you to confirm the veracity of the claims, I have been gracious enough to host them." She paused, standing up, rising in a fluid motion to all eight of her legs.

"Until the matter is solved, you shall be honored _guests_ of the Drow empire,' Albus and Hadrian's eyes met for a split second, she was far stronger than Il'sensagron, far, _far_ stronger. The two could tell that without knowing anything about her. Besides that, the hundred or so Drow, nobles and Praetorian guard, were all further obstacles, not to mention the dozen or so dwarves all looking at Otho with hunger. No this was not a fight they could win. Albus stepped forward.

"We graciously accept your invitation and hospitality, we hope to have the chance to improve relations with the Drow people, and learn about one another." The Queen smirked, it was a small thing, nearly unnoticeable, but Hadian and Dumbledore both knew that they were little more than flies stuck in her web at this point.

* * *

Otho stood in front of the Karshai, a council of Dwarven Magistrate as it were, and seethed. This was the very reason he had never wanted the magic he was born with, the very reason why he hid. Dwarves were many things; brave for one, masters at crafting, and they were none too shabby warriors, but they like the goblins of Midgard, had one thing that could overshadow their other multitude of decent qualities; their greed.

He could feel it in his elbows, these old dwarves saw him as a loyal Dwarven Captain, but someone who was now a resource, something unique, something to be possessed, something to be controlled and mined of all value. Otho's eyes hardened. Typical.

"You stand accused in the court of the Seven Dwarven Kings of the highest of treasons, the betrayal hiding your status as an Orzûm, your gift from your Kings whom you serve. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Otho's eyes became flinty at the insult.

"I have committed no treason, and I am no Orzûm." Otho nearly snarled. The Magistrates looked unimpressed.

"That remains to be seen, a tribunal of Kings is arriving in a kohls time, until then you will be confined to your quarters. We expect your cooperation. Dismissed." Otho felt numbness as he was led to a room next to his friends' it was under guard by two Dwarven Karshakum, the equivalent of the Dwarven Military Police, he would not be escaping anytime soon. Not without becoming an actual traitor.

'Otho?' Hadrian's voice rang out in his head.

'Yes, Hadrian,' he replied tiredly. He liked the man well enough, they had bonded over their battles and journey, but while they trusted one another, they were in no way close.

'What happened?'

'There was a meeting of Karshai, a court of magistrates, they have accused me of Treason for never informing the Council of Kings as to my abilities, they have summoned a tribunal to decide my fate in one Kohl,' Otho replied.

'A kohl?' Hadrian replied he did not understand the significance it seemed.

'A kohl is just a kohl, it is a measure of time, like the hourglass contraption you have in your tent, I do not know how to quantify it further,' Otho's voice revealed his exhaustion.

'Is there anything you need?' Hadrian asked.

'Nothing I suspect you can give me my friend.'

* * *

While Otho was otherwise occupied with the debacle that was the Karshai, Albus and Hadrian walked between two drider, the massive cursed beings watching them carefully as they led them to a private audience with their queen. The room they were led to was a large oval shape, decorated with a variety of elegant upholstered chairs and tapestries. Detailed in a way that neither could have even imagined was possible.

"Sit," one of the Drider growled out, "the queen will be with you shortly." Without waiting for a response, the massive ten-foot-tall guard made his way out the door, fading into the shadows, disappearing completely from sight, the clicks of his pointed feet no longer audible after a few seconds.

"They are most peculiar, are they not?" Both Albus and Hadrian nearly jumped out of their skin as they whirled around wands drawn, Hadrian crouching and casting a rather large mage shield, even as Albus readied the Elder wand to defend the two from the new threat. The duo found themselves staring in confusion at the queen, who now stood on two legs, leaning against a doorway that they had not previously even noticed was there. Hadrian hurriedly released the magic on the mage shield, even as the two wizards sheathed their wands standing sheepishly.

"Queen Neitea, our apologies for the reaction, we meant no insult." The queen waved off their apology with a dismissive gesture.

"It is of no consequence, I was curious to see how you would react, I am glad to say I am not disappointed, your teamwork was commendable, I expected as much as you had somehow managed to slay the Lord of the Fifth Circle as well as the dragon son of The _Many-Tentacled God." _Both Hadrian and Albus shrugged sheepishly.

"I have a great many questions for you both. If you wouldn't mind obliging me?"

"We would be happy to do so if you would not mind extending us the same courtesy?" Hadrian asked, ignoring the disapproving look Albus-the-politician-Dumbledore sent him. The Spider Queen's laugh was a beautiful thing, both men found themselves appreciating the twinkling quality of it.

"Perhaps an even trade, an answer for an answer," The queen's voice was like velvet.

"We would be happy to, though we are under no obligation to answer your highness," Albus said gently, she nodded in agreement.

"Tell me what brings two mortal Midgardians to Svaltenheimr?"

"We are seeking the Elves of Álfheimr." She looked surprised but made no further comment, simply gesturing at them to ask their question.

"What are you, my lady?" Hadrian asked curiously, once again ignoring Albus' look of sheer incredulously at his direct question.

"I Hadrian Potter, am the Spiderling, the True Child of Neith, I am the first Drow." Hadrian and Albus looked on interestedly but she offered no further explanation.

"Why did you assist the dwarves in defending their city Sorcerers?" Albus shot Hadrian a look that made him clamp his mouth shut, it seemed his mentor was losing his patience with his political blunders.

"We needed a guide and passage to Álfheimr, and we did not know who we could ask. They agreed if we solved their Illithid problem." The Queen laughed.

"Your innocence has robbed you, had you simply threatened to remove the Mythal you would have gotten your wish. Instead, the dwarves have managed to trick you into dealing with single-handedly dealing with Il'sensagron and assisting in getting the information on the elder brain and aiding them in their campaign." Both of the wizards stared at the queen blankly as the realization of how foolish they had been dawned on them. Between laughs at their expense, the queen gestured at them to ask the next question.

"Can you explain why we can not understand time in Svartalfheim?" Hadrian asked before Albus had the chance, the elder man looking pleasantly surprised at the question.

"Hm do you know how the realms work?" The queen asked gently.

"Not in as much detail as one such as yourself might be able to share my lady, nor as well as we wish to. The knowledge was lost and banned long ago" Albus responded with a tinge of embarrassment.

"Let me see if I can not make that clear first, then we shall see if your question is not answered," Neita said kindly.

"See originally the realms were not separate in the way they currently are. Originally Your Midgard was indeed the gateway to realms, Svartalheimr being one good example, lay in a small pocket dimension under the earth's crust, and expanded space you could call it, at the same time below the earth, and not, the same was true for Álfheimr, Jotunheimr and several of the other realms." The Spider Queen gestured, and swirling colors and phantom images of the realms sprung into existence. "This may better illustrate the point. Midgard had several branches which led to other realms, other realms like Asgard were separate branches.  
" They all are interconnected, so that means that there is no direct route from Asgard to Svartalheimr?" Hadrian exclaimed confused.

" You are correct, Hadrian. Though there are powerful ways to travel between realms, the Bifrost being one, the universe, and magic itself, have their own predetermined flow. Magic which flows realm to realm has already had its course decided, it is this flow that the demon's tapped into, and used to attack our realm, they are shall we say, from a different existence entirely. They have manifested horror, for all beings in this creation, they are the failed creations, beings so horrible, none could live with their existence. A scourge. They consumed everything in their universe, those that remained, forming the Nine Circles of what we call Hell," Hadrian and Albus found themselves surprised by the news, they had always been under the impression Hell was another realm.

When they came for the magic, to feast on those things the gods had created, anathema to creation and culture, to civilization itself, the gods and the Celestials had little choice. They fought, they by nature are forbidden from interfering with the affairs of mortals, and though this was affecting more than the mortals, this was an issue that transcended the mortal realm, yet affected mortality all the same." The Queen was lost in memory, and neither Hadrian nor Albus felt the desire to interrupt a first-hand account for events that had faded into obscurity on Earth.

"Mortals were not all equally able to defend against such a powerful threat. The gods sent their servants to their deaths did little more than entice the demons further. A universe rich with magic, they had no reason to stay away, they like when their food has a bit of fight in them." The Queen made a fist and the realms glowed, cloaked and clouded in a bubble.

"Many Gods sacrificed themselves, broke the rules to save their people, their followers, they sacrificed themselves in what is known as the Great Cataclysm. They faded for their effort, they twisted reality, limiting the magic and locking the demons out. Their lack of presence in realms that depended on them, the unexpectedness of their choice had unintended consequences, ones that none could have guessed. The fading of so many gods, it unbalanced reality, twisting the realms, jamming magic, gods anchor magic you see, they are like magic batteries, vessels of faith, and indeed magic itself. And all paid the price." Her eyes had misted over again.

"Your kind suffered perhaps the most, so many of Midgards gods were gone, it being the linchpin realm, it was perhaps the largest realm, perhaps the most important, but Magic was no longer able to sustain itself and give its gift to the Children of Midgard, so it stopped," The Queen spoke with a loss and horror that startled the two.

"What do you mean, _stopped?" _Albus asked cautiously.

"The last time I was on Midgard, Dear sorcerer, there was not a single human who lacked the blessing of Magic." Hadrian and Albus reeled back as if struck.

"No muggles?" Hadrian breathed, Albus had gone deathly pale.

"What are Muggles?" The Queen asked curiously at the unknown term, her grim look replaced by one of curiosity.

"The men and women born without Magic," Albus responded, "They have since formed their own society, but what about the dwarves? We were told their lack of magic was about their magic turning inwards, not that they lacked it completely," Albus struggled to reconcile the Queen's words with his own view of the world.

"The dwarves did indeed turn their magic inwards, but they did so because they lacked the power to turn it outwards, I am sure you must have heard that the Orzûm are ancient? _Every single dwarf with magic, Every single one was born before the Cataclysm, their magic making them near-immortal, _every dwarf _except_ your friend, the dwarven Captain." Albus nodded his head in understanding, it now made sense why the Dwarven Kings' desired to possess Otho.

"Now to finally answer your question, _Time_ Young Sorcerer, Time works differently based on the size of the realm you are in. Time affects you based on the amount of magic you have. You have been able to make neither hide nor tail of the way time works in Svartalfheim because, time since the Cataclysm, does not even work the same. I greatly suspect that I would not survive long in the current Midgard, the lack of ambient magic there would drive me mad I fear, so I have little understanding of how much time has passed, or not, but Time passes very differently here. It works differently in any of the smaller realms than it does in a big one. The Cataclysm has made many realms non-standard as you might call it. You both have extremely strong magic, I suspect your magic is already working overtime to bring you both to your primes," Albus looked at her thoughtfully, he had thought that he had noticed Hadrian changing in addition to his own magical recovery time, but Albus had shrugged it off as a simple mis-observation, it wasn't like people got younger or older magically.

"Thank you for your illuminating explanation, my Lady, I do believe that you have given us a great many things to think over," Hadrian it seemed, was learning the older man thought with a ghost of a grin.

"You are most welcome, but I do believe it is my turn, Why did you seek our fair cousins?" The Queen's eyes betrayed nothing of her intent or motivation.

"We are seeking allies, allies against the Demons now that the veil has been torn," Hadrian responded, even as Albus winced, perhaps he was still a ways off from being as diplomatic as he would need to be.

The queen's visage changed dramatically. Gone were the kind eyes, the glistening silver hair, the otherworldly allure, in their place was a presence that filled Hadrian and Albus with terror, the shadows stretched, deepening, the queen's eyes flickered ruby red, raw _power _filling the air. They were paralyzed, the feeling that they were in the presence of a hunting predator crippling their minds in an instant, this was worse than Ilsensagron. They felt the breath drift up from their lungs, suffocation adding to the heightened fear the two sorcerers were feeling, no they had been quite wrong, Queen Neith was far stronger than Il'sensagron was, so much stronger than the dragon they barely beat due to luck and teamwork. The world began dimming for the two wizards, the lack of air, and the sheer presence _crushing them_.

Their shock and terror must have shown on their faces as in an instant it was all gone, the Queen having simply closed her eyes when she opened them, they had returned to their normal hue.

"My apologies, my mother, she was one of the Gods to give her life to defend Svartalheimr, the news, the idea that someone would be idiotic enough to allow such a thing as the sundering of the veil to occur is _enraging_, to say the least. The Spider Queen's innocent beauty seemed like a lie now in the face of the two men's recent memory of her power.

"I think it's best we start at the beginning and you tell me _everything_ that you know," the queen's voice was gentle but hard as steel, it seemed she cared quite a lot about the status of the veil, and she fully intended on knowing everything they did. Albus and Hadrian knew that they had little choice, the two were reminded why the unspeakable mysteries were in fact unspeakable, for as long as they lived, neither would forget that feeling of utter helplessness, and all-consuming terror, the sure knowledge that you were nothing but _prey in the face of the Spiderling. _

* * *

Hadrian found himself, staring into the arena. It had been several cycles since he and Albus had talked with the Spiderling. And Hadrian was going a little stir crazy. Since he had come to be Albus' apprentice, he hadn't gone such a long time without a fight, and Hadrian was loath to admit it but, he was itching for one.

In a rather normal manner for himself, Hadrian had against Albus' knowledge, entered himself and Rath'gar into two gladiatorial tournaments. Rath'gar had been entered into a slayers tournament, one with all manner of fel beasts, Hadrian, on the other hand, had entered the one simply called '_**Betotolna'**_. When he had inquired about it, it was apparently a series of challenger gladiatorial fights, one where the winner took all. He suspected that the challenge would prove very _illuminating_ as to the true skill he had gained from his sacrifice, and while he had little interest in winning, it would serve its purpose. It was held in the honor of one of the Daughters of Neitea or some such frivolity, but it would give Hadrian a chance to finally power through the final safety feature of the Memoriastum, letting him make full use of its abilities.

Even after their conversation with the Spiderling, Hadrian still did not understand Svartalfheimr's chronic-measure anymore than he did before, it was at best infuriating. Albus had been focused on getting to know the queen, the old man's youthfulness even more evident after the Queen's explanation. His own advancing age was equally clear, his shoulders had broadened, his muscles developed, and he had grown to a rather respectable height, something that he found himself enjoying, more than he expected. He looked nearly fifteen now, and he felt the power that his aging body gave him.

Hadrian had dressed in drow robes, he had changed the color so that they matched his own Navy Blue Arcanists' robes color, the crisscrossing pleats of the many layers of his robes making Hadrian feel surprisingly elegant while also free with his movements, money was no obstacle after having gained Ilsensagron's hoard. Hadrian's hair was pulled back revealing the slight point to his ears. Hadrian's long black hair hung loose, flowing regally down his back, two strands falling in front of his ears. It had been a surprise for the teenager when a while back he had removed his hair from the bun he had taken to wearing it in, and it had tumbled down to his mid-back, long and straight, when he had left it was only long enough to be tied back, not more. It seemed his hair knew the passage of time better than he, he could not believe it when he looked at its length, immediately rushing to show Albus, whose own long hair Hadrian had never really noticed.

The gate opened, each of the contestants strode out into the spherical arena. The first semi-final round was a melee, seven contestants in a free for all, last man standing moves onwards. There had been three of these, all of the contestants being chosen, his own group the last remaining one.

It was no surprise to Hadrian when the six other contestants who stepped forward were drow, nor was it a surprise when they all turned and looked at him as one. All of the contestants moved forward towards the center of the ring, he doubted it would be fun if it wasn't dangerous. He felt a trickle of lightning flow through him, his eyes sparking with small lightning bolts as he readied himself.

Hadrian blew a large breath outwards, the drow suddenly and collectively disappeared the shadows surrounding him growing thick. Hadrian closed his eyes, breathing in Hadrian cast his consciousness outwards, something Albus had been teaching him to do for a while now. The darkness and shadows no longer hid the drow from him, they were betrayed as Hadrian felt the spark of their life force, the spark that kept their heart beating and minds conscious. They could hide themselves in every way detectable, but he suspected not in the only way that mattered to someone like him.

He felt, rather than saw as one of the Drow blurred forward, Hadrian knew he could cast them from his sight with magic, it would be _simple,_ but he had joined this to test himself, so he supposed he should do it the hard way. Hadrian stepped to the side, even as his foresight warned him of the strike from the first Drow, he slammed the back of his blade into the drow's over-extended wrist, the drows own blade clattering on the ground.

His foot pivoted to the side as the diagonal strike that would have cut him from neck to hip was avoided even as Eldingr lashed out, the flat of his magically dulled blade crunching into the drows surprised nose. Hadrian did not pause to admire his felled opponent, instead changing his grip on his sword as he ducked under the blade of the third and fourth drows, the flat of his reversed blade redirecting the blade of the fifth drow into the stomach of the seventh, the sixth receiving a firm kick to his knees that sent him down even as eldingr twirled, deflecting the two vicious strikes form the two remaining drow.

Their movements normally deadly in the shadows were perhaps unfairly revealed by Hadrian's own powers, Hadrian readied himself, the odds were more or less evened. Hadrian stood his sword ready as he looked dispassionately down his blade at the two remaining drow.

Left slash, right slash, parry, thrust. Hadrian's opponent seemed surprised at his proficiency with the weapon, the ease with which he handled it growing all the more as he became more accustomed to using the knowledge that he had gained. The knowledge of what each slash would feel like, no longer drove him nearly mad with disgust. He had become in a horrifying manner, numb to the knowledge. He suspected the knowledge of what each blow did, made him all the more direct, every blow meant to kill.

The drow he was fighting with was surely competent, and before he had taken the Memoriastum, Hadrian would never have dared to engage in such a confrontation, every stroke he made was clear to Hadrian, he knew what the drow was attempting to do, and when it was so transparently displayed, his mind showed him the right counter every time.

The price the magic exacted was cruel, but it was more importantly effective, nothing was free, the final test of the Memoriastum was perseverance. No coward with lackluster motivation would be able to conquer the Memoriastum's final test.

Hadrian rolled out of the way of a slash by his other grey-skinned opponent, the drow no longer seemed content to watch as he and the other contestant battled. It was a different dance, one that was equally fierce, but perhaps all the more beautiful. They both charged at him from each side and funneling magic into his limbs, Hadrian leaped over their strikes, one high, the other low, and smashed their surprised faces with his blade.

The crowd's cheering was deafening. The semi-final round of this tournament was nearly a joke, with the other contestant being exhausted from the first several rounds, Hadrian mercifully dispatched him securing himself into the final round.

* * *

The two finalists would fight each other in single combat. Hadrian stood in the center of the arena waiting for the other semi-finalist to enter and enter he did, a tall regal drow, his white hair silky and smooth, his face flawless and his eyes a stunning purple, he was Hadrian suspected a noble.

"I am Gednax Shyvix, Lord of the Quivering caves."

"Well met Gednax, I am Hadrian, apprentice to Albus Dumbledore." Hadrian could see the sneer that rippled under the surface of Gednax's face, the drow was, Hadrian, typecasted, a '_bad guy'. _

"I see they are letting anyone in here nowadays, no matter, With a stiff bow and an extreme flurry Gednax, held out his twin swords, his stance indicating that Hadrian would not be the one on the offensive, Gednax was coiled like a cat ready to strike.

Hadrian pushed his magic into his body, the only thing that had allowed him to push his muscles to this point, they were nowhere near naturally strong enough for what he had been putting them through. Deciding to show off a bit, Hadrian _summoned_ Eldingr to his hand, the blade appearing with a crack of lightning. Gednax simply raised an eyebrow before launching himself at Hadrian, his blades a glinting whirlwind of steel. Hadrian's single blade met the flurry and stopped the two blades cold. Eldingr whispered to him that with a spark of power, it could fry his opponent, but Hadrian was here to use his swords, so ignoring the swords desire for a victory, Hadrian began trading blows, the two blades gave his opponent an advantage, but then again, so did the memoriastum.

The crowd was thundering around them, the screams fading into the background as Gednax's strikes grew more and more aggressive and calculated, it seems the other swordsman was taking him seriously now. Every motion the older drow made was one that linked with the next motion, Hadrian's own mind struggling to keep up, struggling to withdraw the necessary memories in time to inform his body and avoid disqualification.

Duck, parry, block, block, pivot. Hadrian struggled as the Drow seemed to move faster and faster, still, he avoided any hits from the other elf, nearly scoring a few of his own.

Gednax was angry, angry that a half-elf half-human was matching it, angry that he was at risk of losing the prize, and so he did something that he would come to greatly regret, he attempted to shock his enemy by using a trick he had up his sleeve, an electric shock his sword was capable of making when enough kinetic energy had been stored by them.

Hadrian looked at the fool in incredulousity, he had summoned Eldingr in a flash of lightning right? Power flowed into him as the kinetic energy the swords were trying to stun him with were converted by Eldingr into _power_. Truly it was something he would have to investigate further, it could be an ace up his sleeve.

Hadrian felt himself fill with raw strength, and with a flicker of movement, he finished the fight, the extra fuel more than bridging the skill gap between the two fighters as Hadrian cracked Eldingr into one wrist than another disarming the drow and knocking him from the fight.

It was the crowds cheering that shook Hadrian out of his thoughts, he had won a drow tournament, for an unknown prize, without asking Albus or the queen, and Hadrian had a bad feeling about what was going to happen next.

"Fellow Drow and Drider, we have a winner! Hadrian Potter!" Hadrian was escorted to a room, one that had several guards around it, standing there was a beautiful woman, Hadrian might have barely entered puberty when he had left, but whatever change he had undergone since traveling the different realms had unbeknownst to him, jettisoned him into puberty, Hadrian felt the burning desire rushing through his veins at the sight of some of the drow women, the sight of the drowess in front of him made his mouth run dry, she appeared to be roughly his age, though truthfully he had no idea how old he was after spending so long in Svartalfheimr.

"Well Hadrian Potter, you are full of surprises," Hadrian bowed,

"You do me the greatest honor my lady, but may I ask your name?"

"She is the youngest daughter of Queen Neithea, and now you shall join her in her fate." His precognition _**screamed**_ _at him_. Whirling around drawing Eldingr, he came face to face with Gednax Shyvix just in time to see the drow smirk cruelly as the vial he had flung at the ground exploded. His last thought was only that Albus was going to kill him, the princess falling to the ground a second before he himself did.

* * *

Hadrian awoke in a cell. 'Albus,' he called out cautiously.

'Hadrian, are you alright?' Albus had none of his normal cheer. This was not the genial Dumbledore Hadrian interacted with, this was serious Albus.

'I am fine Albus,'

'What happened?'

'I entered a tournament, won, ugh and got kidnapped along with some Daughter of Neithea by a Drow who I defeated,' Albus' sigh was audible even telepathically.

'You Hadrian should have been one of Godrics! It will be you that drives me to an early grave, not dragons, illithid, demons or even the dreaded bureaucracy' Albus' tone while chastising was accompanied by a strong sensation of joy at Hadrian's continued wellbeing.

'So I do not suppose you want to come and get me?'

'I'm sorry to say Hadrian but you are on your own for an escape, I am currently sealed inside of the judicial room with Neithea Otho and the other dwarven arbiters, I am unable to leave until the matter is resolved or else I already would be at your side. So either find your own way out or sit there till I can come and get you,'

'I will manage Albus. Good luck with the trial,' extending his senses outwards, Hadrian checked to see if anyone was near him. There was only a single other person within the 50 meters he could sense in every direction without casting an active spell.

Opening his eyes, he saw the Drow Princess hanging unconscious and found himself angered at the bruises he found on her face and shoulders. They better not have touched her.

He twisted in his position, looking at the cuffs, they were magic resistant, but they didn't know his true capabilities, or they would not have been so lax about securing him. Hadrian's eyes glowed an electric blue, as he channeled the unlocking spell through his entire body, the four securing cuffs snapping open, dropping him to the floor.

Hadrian cast a minor healing spell on his wrists, grimacing at the sharp pain that he felt as the chafed skin healed itself. Walking across the short cell to where the princess was held, Hadrian gestured, and her bonds were broken, she slid into his arms not stirring even as he placed her on the ground.

"_Rennervate_," Hadrian said out loud, with a gasp she awoke and Hadrian's precognition screamed at him. Hand splaying out, Hadrian heard and felt rather than saw, the six shadowy marks where _something_ impacted the dome shield he had summoned.

The teenaged Princess stared at Hadrian, Hadrian stared back. The Princess was about his height, and while he had thought she was wearing a black dress, it appeared as if it was just a cleverly designed cloak, one that hid the scale-mail she wore underneath it. Her skin was not the dark-grey that most of the Drow he had seen had, it was instead the lightest grey that he had ever seen, a grey tint of white as it were, her peach lips stood out against her pale skin. Her black hair was put up in a ponytail, and her ears, which were slightly longer than his poked out on each side. The Princess was not particularly tall, though he knew he had grown a significant amount since he entered Svartalfheimr. Hadrian found himself enjoying the view. Watching through his crystal clear shield as she shook off the haze and realized whom she had attacked.

"Hadrian Potter," she stated.

"Princess," He responded cautiously

"I had hoped the one I was attacking was one of the villains who abducted us."

"I am glad I am not one of them," Hadrian replied dryly.

"What has happened," she asked quietly, the spider-like appendages retreating into shadow once more, Hadrian dismissing his shield soon after.  
"Well Princess, I woke up, found myself chained, took issue with it, got free, realized you were here along with me, and freed you shortly after," Hadrian said cautiously."

"Hmphh, good to know that you have a brain at least," the Princess said, her voice nearly a whisper.

"I don't suppose you have a name milady?" The princess could not tell if Hadrian was being facetious or not.

"I am Taurelilómëa," Hadrian's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Forest of Shadows," he said nodding his head. Taurelilómëa looked at him surprised.

"You speak the Silvan Tongue? How is that possible, I thought you were a man,"

"I am a Half-Elf, like yourself I suspect," Taurelilómëa's eyes narrowed.

"I am a Full-Elf, I just happen to be a mix of two different kinds of Elves, my elf blood is not in any way tainted. Hadrian found himself irritated with the beautiful princess, it struck him that it was potentially way more work than she was worth to even bother to be friendly with her.

'Albus, are you by Queen Neithea?' He waited for a few seconds as there was no response.

'Yes, Hadrian, why do you ask, tell her I am with a daughter of hers Taurelilómëa,' Hadrian waited in silence for Albus' response.

'The Queen asks that you deliver her daughter back to her in one piece, she also says that you may do what you must to escape,' in other words, don't feel responsible for pulling your punches, do what you must and return here.

'Tell her Majesty it shall be done.'

"Hello?!" Taurelilómëa waved her hand in front of Hadrian. He shook his head, focusing on the present. "Are you ok?" Strangely enough, Hadrian did not detect fear in her, it was likely that she was capable of braving this place. She seemed more than a prissy princess which boded well for him in the coming future.

"I am fine, I was simply thinking is all, I think it is time that we leave this place, Princess, if you would stay behind me. Hadrian stood from where he had been seated next to Taurelilómëa, and walked over to the iron-clad door.

"How are you going to- '' The Princess' question died in her mouth as Hadrian walked up to the door, and made a pushing gesture, the door being blasted off of its hinges. Crushing the two guards behind it with its momentum and weight.  
"Shall we?" Hadrian asked pleasantly, completely unphased by her incredulous look.

"O-of course." Hadrian suspected that every single drow wherever they were imprisoned was now aware that they had escaped.

"Do you know who these peop-erm Drow are?" The two were walking down the only hallway that was visible. Neither elves could feel any secret passages as they walked deeper through the hall.

The two walked in silence, finally coming across the end of the hall, a single door lay in front of them. Reaching his senses out, Hadrian realized that there were nearly forty people behind it. Placing his hand on the wall, Hadrian frowned as the transfiguration based spell Albus had taught him went into effect, they could now see through the wall as if it was not there.

Forty drow lay in wait around the door, Driders, with long swords and spears, assassins in the rafters, archers, it was a small army that lay in wait for the two, every single one of them wore an Eye motif somewhere on their personage. Turning to Taurelilómëa, Hadrian asked her if she recognized them.

"They are the Quivering Shadows. Criminals. Savages. _Slave Traders." _Hadrian's eyes glowed so brightly at the word that they cast shadows on the walls, Taurelilómëa looked taken aback at Hadrian's reaction.

"Slave Traders?" Hadrian's voice held a surprising amount of fury, the young man was normally not one to lose control over his emotions. Hadrian had known that House Elves weren't slaves, but it didn't stop him from feeling extremely strongly on the topic.

"Quite, they have been trying to convince my mother to allow them to rekindle the Slave trade, the one which she abolished early in her rule against the dwarves, she has obviously not allowed them to do so, I suspect they are expecting to use us as leverage," Hadrian's face got a rather bloodthirsty look to it.

"I don't suppose the Queen would mind if I removed this problem for her?" the Princess raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at the younger teenager in challenge.

"There are 40 of them out there," The Princesses voice held a tinge of disbelief at what she no doubt felt was bravado. "Winning a tournament is very different than fighting against 40 trained, armed Drow and Drider bandits,"

"We shall see now will we not? Come here for a second," She took a step closer to him eyeing him carefully.

"_Custodire ab ferit. Custodire ab tela. Intactilis. Quam nocere. Magus armaturam_." Hadrian had not come prepared with his normal slew of protection magics, prepared spells, or even artifacts and gear, the tournament was not supposed to be a risky endeavor, and any magical items except your weapon would have had you disqualified immediately.

"These are spells, they will protect you. They will prevent something like a stray arrow from striking you and killing you," The Princess looked at the younger man appraisingly.

"It seems you are full of surprises Hadrian," Hadrian was not entirely sure _why_ he was happy to hear the princess say that.

"Are you capable of handling yourself?" Hadrian asked the speed the shadowing arachnid-like legs had pierced his shield told him she was perhaps more capable than he.

"I suspect so," the princess said with a small smirk. Seeing no need to waste further time, Hadrian stepped forward

"Shall we?'' Hadrian said, gesturing at the door where the slaver scum waited to recapture them. At the Princesses nod, Hadrian drew Eldingr, his sword in wand form, he summoned a mage shield into existence attaching it to his left hand even as he flicked his wand banishing the heavy iron-studded door into the line of foot soldiers waiting directly in line with the door.

Hadrian strolled through the gaping hole that it left behind like he had not a single care in the world. His wand swishing this way and that, ribbons of magic flying from his wand, slicing through Drow and Drider alike. He was in his element, his spells and movements chaining together. A piercing hex, ended with a jab, which he then turned into the start of a flame whip charm, which he used to slice two charging driders into pieces, Eldingr flickered into a sword long enough to be thrust through an approaching drows neck, before being pulled out with a diagonal slash of is once again wand that redirected all of the arrows that had been loosed on his location into the chests of the drow slavers nearest to him.

Screams rang through the air. Realizing that even with as many of the drow as he was cutting down, the Princess was still at risk if they slipped by him, Hadrian decided to be more _effective_ in his dispatching of the slaver scum. Spying a pocket of the Drow soldiers clustered together, Hadrian flicked his wand and fired a massive lightning bolt at the group, nearly grinning as he hit them all, their charred and lifeless bodies dropping to the ground.

Soon enough there were no slavers left in the room, the remaining having fled, or been eviscerated. While many of the drow knew powerful magics, theirs were less direct magic. Hexes and summonings, those were a drows specialty, though while most drow had the ability, very few of them pursued magic beyond a certain caliber.

Hadrian stood in silence in the center of the bloodbath. With a snap of his fingers, he and Eldingr were free of any and all grime and blood. The smell vanishing from the room as well, ventilation he decided, was his biggest issue with living in Svartalfheimr.

"Princess? We are all set to move onwards now?," Hadrian said, his voice carrying.

"Alright," A voice whispered right behind him. Whirling around, Hadrian found the princess standing mere feet away from him. He had neither sensed her, nor had he seen her, nor had his own precognition warned him. "I was right, you are full of surprises,"

The two moved onwards towards what they assumed was the way out of the complex they had found themselves in.

"Do you know who this Gednax Shyvix is?"

"He is a noble, Lord of the Quivering Caverns, a contender for the tournament, a rather minor noble, I don't have much interaction with the man,"

"How far is the Quivering Caverns from Kaazril?" The Drow Princess looked at him curiously.

"It is only on the outskirts of Kaazril, so not far at all."

"Good," Hadrian sighed, that continuous casting had taken more out of him than he had expected. He had become more reliant on the Darhain Cuffs than he had ever wanted to be. The artifacts were very useful, but they like all of his possessions except Eldingr were with Albus, locked in their trunk unknown to Albus, who had taken to carrying the trunk, on Albus' personage, locked inside of a rather important court case for Otho. Rath'gar and Hadrian had both tried attending, but only one of them was permitted to join the dwarf, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Albus was the best one for Otho to have with him.

"Can I ask you something, Hadrian Potter?" the Princesses voice was so quiet, Hadrian nearly missed it.

"Go ahead, but only if you call me Hadrian," Hadrian responded immediately. "I never did find out the prize for winning the tournament,"

"Wait, you did not know? Why did you enter the tournament if not to bid for my hand in marriage?" Hadrian froze.

"What?" Hadrian turned to look at the Princess, "What do you mean bid for _marriage?" _The Princess looked at him in surprise.

"You mean truly you had no idea? You speak Sylvan but don't know the word Betotolna? The word for courting?" She seemed genuinely surprised.

"No, I didn't know!" Hadrian looked at her nervously. "I wanted a chance to practice my sword skills, a Tournament seemed the perfect chance! That is all!" The princesses eyes seemed to bulge out of her shapely face. Then unexpectedly she laughed. It was not a nasally sound, nor a grating one, rather it boarded on musical.

"Well I suppose you will be glad to know that you did in fact win the prize," the Elf maiden grinned at Hadrian's shell shocked face, "In other words, you are now expected to court me formally."

'ALBUS!' Hadrian shouted across their connection.

'Not now Hadrian, I am busy.' Albus' presence in their shared mind link then seemed to disappear as it did when the other needed privacy.

'I suppose I will need to tell you later that I have apparently bound myself to courting the Queen of the Drow's Half-Elven Daughter.' Hadrian mused to no one in particular. Hearing no response, Hadrian brought his attention back to his silent traveling companion.

"It seems we are nearing the end of whatever this labyrinthine passage leads." Hadrian commented absently

"It seems so." The two walked out of the slightly ajar door and into an altar-room.

"Where are we?" Hadrian whispered quietly, "do you recognize anything?" Taurelilómëa was an unnatural color as the door behind them clicked shut, locking them in the sanctum. They walked over to the solitary desk and looked around, seeing if they could figure out where they were.

"H-Hadrian?" Taurelilómëa's voice quivered in a way that alarmed Hadrian far more than he was willing to admit. While a princess, she had proven remarkably brave in the face of what would have meant death had he been anyone else he suspected.

"What is it?" Taurelilómëa simply pointed at the body of Gednad Shyvix, blood pouring out of his eyes and ears. Fear truly gripped him for the first time that night. Hadrian blurred as he ran to the body of the Drow Noble.

Reaching his hand out, he opened the drow's eyes, it looked like someone had made them into a dodecahedron.

"What happened to him," the princess asked horrified. Hadrian's mounting anxiety grew as he stood picking up document after document, trying to see if this thing had been knowingly summoned or any other justification as to how it could have been in svartalfheimr or what it was.

"We need to leave _now!" _Hadrian hissed out.

"I thought that is what we are trying to do?" The Princess bit back confused as to his clearly alarmed state.

"Do you have Soul Magic?"

"That is a very personal question, Hadrian," the princesses' eyes narrowed.

"It is relevant and important."

"I have enough of it, my father is an Elven General, he would no sooner leave me undefended than he would the Elven Kingdom,"

"I don't doubt it, but I am going to place a few more on you, just so you don't end up like Gednad there, with your mind completely shattered by the presence of an Anathema."

"Anathema?"

"It is the name for something that's very existence is wrong, we can discuss it all you want when we are out of here and safe," Hadrian began layering more and more spells onto the Princess, his vision swimming as he felt the strain of expending so much of his own magic.

"What about you?" Hadrian made a few gestures, his own mage armor, and sigils flaring to life.

"I am fairly well defended,"

"But what are you defending us from? Surely little can stand in the way of a single man who punched a hole through 40 drow?" Hadrian frowned.

"Whatever did this, it could probably punch a hole through a _lot_ more than me."

"What could have done this?"

"Most probably, it was a demon, but this was no 9th circle imp, whatever did this, did this for _fun. _It is a monstrosity, and it is _here_, materially manifest. We must find a way out!"

'ALBUS!' Hadrian shouted, hammering at Albus's consciousness. 'God DAMN IT. ALBUS!'

'Hadrian?' Albus did not sound amused, 'What are you doing, I am fairly sure I was clear tha-?'

'Albus, just listen! We are in very real and very imminent danger, we need to get out _now!' _Albus immediately focused on what Hadrian was saying.

'What happened?'

'Albus, it fractured the _Drow's mind into Twenty-Four parts!' _

'Great Merlin!' Albus swore, 'You were right to interrupt me, and do you have your trunk?'

'Albus my gear is all in the trunk. Everything except Eldingr.'

'You do not even have any of your gear! If it lays eyes on you you will be lost, of all of the foolish things to do!' A boom rattled the entire room. Hadrian and Taurelilómëa both went completely still. Harian had warded the room, hoping to give them a warning when their time was up and whatever eldritch terror did this returned. A gong rang out causing Taurelilómëa's head to snap up in confusion, even as she kept looking around everywhere to try and find some way out of the chamber they were waiting to die in.

'Hadrian?'

'Albus, it is here.'

'Hadrian, FLEE. Apparate out!'

'There are no windows, I do not have anywhere I can safely apparate to! Apparating beyond line-of-sight might be deadly by myself, and is most assuredly deadly with another person of questionable heritage,' Hadrian sent back exasperated.

"Hadrian, I found something!" Indeed Taurelilómëa had; it was a small servant's path, a small space where the servant could enter and exit the room without using the main door, not large enough to fit through, but large enough to see out of, and that was all that he needed. Grabbing her hand Hadrian raced down the path, firing several locking charms at the door to hopefully slow it down.

The room they found themselves in did have windows, something both Hadrian rejoiced at. Grabbing her arm, without further comment, Hadrian apparated out of the house.

Hadrian cast a quick spell before disapparating with a crack. The two appeared in a field outside of the manor that the two had apparently been in, Taurelilómëa took one look up at the sky and took off in a direction, presumably towards a palace that they both needed to return to. Both of them were doing their best to ignore the silence they brought upon the area as they fled, running as fast as their legs could carry them.

Hadrian found himself vowing to never be completely without his gear, the Darhain Cuffs amongst other things without which he could defend himself at an appropriate level, Hadrian had no one to blame but himself for his weakness, One single glance and he would have been dead. Albus was again preoccupied with the ongoing trial that he was witnessing, leaving him with little to do except marvel at the beauty of Kaazril.

* * *

The two made their way through the streets, flitting from building to building, finally coming to the edge of somewhere that Taurelilómëa recognized. There should be an entrance to The Web here. Nodding up ahead Hadrian moved forward, finally, the came to a circle entrance; it was the _spider_ highway for lack of a better term. Hadrian waited as the Princess flared her hands.

The only word Hadrian understood of her murmured chant was the word - Liantë, or spider. A glowing circle opened up out of which strode a spider, it was massive.

"How did you do that?" Hadrian asked curiously.

"I am gifted in the art of Summoning and Hexes, this is a simple spider that I have summoned to take us to my mother."

"Ah, and it will let us sit on it?"

"Of course, I _am _royalty after all, "her smirk made me feel uncomfortably warm. Hadrian was unsure what connection the smirk on her face had to the climate, but there was no doubt about it, there was a connection.

The _Web_, or the ungwë as he learned it was called, was truly a work of art, The spider _flew _through the passageway, moving faster than he could imagine, Branches taking various Drow riders and driders to various parts of the city. The highway also acted in some way as an extra source of income, every year, a part of the ungwë was removed of all of the silk, which was then sent to be processed, and then used in the various weaving industries that the drow were famous for.

Hadrian found himself nervous as he and Taurelilómëa took the exit closest to the palace gate, the pair walked into the Palace grounds and were soon surrounded by an honor guard who escorted them to the throne room.

They entered from a side door and walked into a scene that none of them expected, the entire throne room including the Drow courtiers and the Queen herself kneeling before a Dwarf.

It seems that you have survived young thunder The dwarf's words echoed in his mind, nearly driving him to his knees with their weight, though it seemed that the dwarf had not yet spoken, nor looked in his direction.

Who are you? Hadrian sent back,

I am the one known as Joradin. I am the Forger, Elder god of the Dwarves, brother to Neith, Uncle to Neitha, creator of the dwarves, Hadrian's eyes widened even as he bowed low, this was the first god that he had met in the deep, and suddenly it was apparent the difference in power between himself and Albus, and the being standing next to Otho. This god was like Osiris, like Ra, domain given form. Come closer young thunderer, it has been a long time since I laid eyes on a new thunderer, Hadrian walked forward, lifting his eyes up to meet the gods glowing orange eyes.

My lord, there is something we must urgently speak to you about, Hadrian's choice in words was met with a hiss one that echoed throughout the throne room at his audacity. The Dwarven god leaned back slightly, his eyes lighting up more as he studied Hadrian's mind.

It was a peculiar experience for Hadrian, not unpleasant yet at the same time, very clear that had he been completely unprotected by his soul magic, Hadrian's mind would be completely at the whim of the higher being who he was locking eyes with.

Hadrian and the others were driven to their feet,

Impossible! The god bellowed. The smell of burning coal lingering in the air.

Is this true grand-niece? Did you see a man whose mind was fractured into twenty-four pieces?! Did you flee from one of the Anathema here in the heart of Da'kaath itself? Taurelilómëa simply nodded.

I have decided, Otho is not Orzûm, he is mine own, I name him High Priest of Joradin. This petty matter is resolved, none of the kings shall have him, he is not theirs to have. Amusing as this was, I now have a demon to hunt! The god's power flared to a stifling degree.

Just as the god flashed out, he turned towards Hadrian and spoke one last time, You thunderer have done me a great service, in protecting my grandniece, and alerting me of this interloper, I will not soon forget it. Should you have need of me or my assistance, do not hesitate to call, The god glowed even brighter, everyone in the throne room, averting their eyes as the God assumed his true form, and teleported away to hunt down the greater demon that had dared to reveal itself in Svartalfheim.

As the afterimage of the god's departure died, so did the stifling presence, and the court's control over their tongues. After a moment of stunned silence, the entire courtroom broke out into chaos.

* * *

Hadrian, Albus, Taurelilómëa, and Neithea sat across from each other. The queen's eyes were redder than they had seen them ever before.

"Are you telling me there is a higher demon running around Svartalfheimr? And that the Quivering Shadows who kidnapped Taurelilómëa have a connection to said demon." The queen frowned. "I should have eradicated that terrorist cell long ago." Her voice slipped out silky and yet promising of pain that none gathered wished to see exacted.

"Quite, if I hadn't noticed the eyes, I would have never known how much danger we truly were in," Hadrian admitted to the Demigoddess.

"It seems young Hadrian that the Drow Sovereignty is building quite the debt with you," there was something in her tone that Hadrian didn't like. "First you win the '_Betotolna'_ without even knowing that it was for the right to court my youngest daughter's hand in marriage," Albus looked like he was sucking on one of those muggle sour candies. "Then you rescue her from her would-be kidnappers, the Quivering Shadows, and now I find you got Taurelilómëa out of the presence of a higher demon, and alerted one of the only beings capable of dealing with said monstrosity of its present one after the other," the Queen leaned across the table, and Hadrian felt his mouth go dry.

"Whether I want to admit it or not, it seems that you have us deeply in your debt." Hadrian was suddenly struck with the surety that Neithea did not much like being in Hadrian's debt.

"Oh no my lady, it is nothing like that!" Hadrian rushed to dissuade her of any ideas of debt that the queen might feel she owes him. All further protests were killed when she raised a single immaculate hand.

"I am afraid it is exactly like that. Now since you have seen fit to _both_ win the Betotolna, something that would normally allow you to court her allowing for time to see if you were suited for each other, and also saved her life during the said courting period, you are now _obligated by Drow law_ to court her," The Spiderling's presence grew, the shadows in the room growing as well. "She is my child with the Elven General, Princess to two realms. If anything should happen to her," Hadrian remembered the Spiderling's red eyes, and suffocating presence. The presence of her uncle, and gulped audibly.

"Honestly, I don't want to cause any trouble," Hadrian raised his hands placatingly. "I was simply looking for a way to exercise my sword skills, I am only 13 you know..."

"I think you are much older than that Hadrian, and also, Elven law is clear in such cases, you will have to court Taurelilómëa," Hadrian wiggled as he looked at Albus and Taurelilómëa, both who seemed to have sympathy in their eyes. "Though if I am honest, perhaps I should be more scared for you than of you," The Spiderling shot a fond look at Taurelilómëa, "She is far more than she appears," the Queen stood abruptly, I am sending the first and ninth armies to fight with the Dwarves against the Illithid threat, they will leave shortly, perhaps it is best if you travel with them, some extra protection wouldn't hurt. "We will meet again," Hadrian was not sure if he was as excited as he previously had found himself at the prospect.

Taurelilómëa left with a few platitudes about 'getting ready,' leaving Hadrian alone with Albus, feeling for the first time like the naughty school child who had been sent to the headmasters' office. This was going to be ugly.

A/N: Hello Readers!

This is a Bonus Chapter!

I promised to release about every 2 weeks, and well, I immediately did not release on schedule, due to other drama and problems. Take this as my apology and a gift to you guys and girls. Also, I like reviews and more of you reviewed chapter 11 than basically any other chapter. The Arcanist now has 500 favorites and 703 subscribers!

I think with the addition of chapter 12, we have now adventured over 100k words, this means hopefully that most of you will trust I am not going to abandon this fic and will like, favorite, and add me to collections because I enjoy the attention.

Now to address comments, because yes, I do read them all!

THE BLACK PRINCE OF DARKNESS - Just wait till we get back to the real world, you will be surprised by what happens, you are right, there are others.

Time313- you are too kind, that is very touching

ActualTurtle - yes they took the skull

AltruousAliterator - Wait till we are back in Midgard again.

And all of the rest of you guys - thanks so much, I read all of your reviews, but they didn't have many questions so I will not be thanking you one by one, but rather just saying THANKS to all of you.

Also - I know some of you will hate how I have introduced our newest companion. I have interesting places in mind, remember courting doesn't need to end in marriage, also I have a lot mapped out, and hope that you will be patient enough to see where I go with it.

Now I want your opinions, feel free to answer them in reviews or PMs.  
1\. Do you like Rath'gar? there will be more of him in the upcoming chapters I have tried to introduce him to you in small doses.  
2\. What are your thoughts on Taurelilómëa? - yes, she will get a nickname at some point.  
3\. Not a lot of Albus or Otho in this chapter, did that disappoint you?  
4\. What do you think of the choice to make Taurelilómëa a summoner and healer? any cool ideas of magic she can use?

Thank you for reading, and bearing with me :)

Omega.


	13. The Caverns of Di'zzarmi (12,680)

**12\. The ****Caverns of Di'zzarmi**

Hadrian and Albus sat in silence. Albus very rarely found himself disappointed in his protegé. So, foolishly entering into a tournament that made him court an elvish-drow Princess of two realms was something Albus did not understand how to reconcile. On the one hand, Hadrian's brashness made Albus' stomach churn, he had forgotten the impetus of youth. And yet, on the other, Hadrian was a supremely lucky son-of-a-bitch. They had come to make allies, and repeatedly, the allies that they had made were so above and beyond what he had ever dreamed. The adventures he and Hadrian had braved could already be the things of legend and myth.

From what he had observed in the several cycles march towards Di'zzarmi, Princess Taurelilómëa was exceedingly kind-hearted, and if that wasn't enough, she was also well versed in healing and summoning magic. Though her own offensive capabilities were yet to be witnessed by him directly. She was a kind soul, of that he was sure, but he also sensed she possessed a form of sharpness, a keen sense of political acumen that gave even him pause.

Elven minds, he'd observed, were different from humans. They were not concrete, alien in a way; after all, they were hardly native to Midgard. Perhaps that is why elves were capable of magics that eludes mere mortals. In that, Hadrian and Taurelilómëa seemed well suited for each other, time would tell where the two teenagers' relationship would lead, but he knew he would be keeping a close eye on the two of them.

Still, he had in his role as a mentor and friend of Hadrian pretended to be suitably disappointed in the young man. It would not do to have Hadrian think that such luck was a reliable part of life; if there was one thing his long years on earth had taught him it was that Lady Luck is a fickle mistress. Still, more good came out of his experience than not, and he would be ungrateful indeed if he did not recognize the good with the bad.

* * *

Rath'gar was confused, he had felt the power of Joradin, the power of the demigod queen and the dragon. Here the gods were real. Here the gods were active members of their people's lives and societies. So what happened to the goblins gods? Why was it that there were none to be found, none to lead their people, none to grace them. The goblins knew many of the other gods and goddesses, but none of their own. It was infuriating, how had something so important been lost to time? Rath'gar knew that his people were the remnants of the Orcs, his own family one of only a few with orc blood in any measurable quantity remaining.

Were their gods trapped with their orcish ancestors in the Infinite Plains? Rath'gar, like every other goblin prince, knew his history. The orcs were the mightiest of the Beserkar, lethal against all manner of foe. Hunters. Goblins were what happened after the first cataclysm when the orcs that had migrated to earth suffered from the lack of connection to the Infinite Plains. Though, Rath'gar now suspected it was not _only_ the missing connection that caused his people's change, it may also have been the lack of what existed on the Infinite Plains: The Orcish Gods.

It was only after the great cataclysm that Goblins, like the dwarves, lost their ability to use more active magics. Which would make sense, if what he had learned from Hadrian and Albus about the workings of the realms and the flow of magic was accurate.

Perhaps it would make sense if he were to search out the Passage to the Infinite Plains, for there was no connection to Midgard. None that any dwarf or wizard had found since the Cataclysm, anyway. But like Álfheimr, perhaps he was looking for the entrance in the wrong place.

* * *

When the party of five reached the outer encampment to Di'zzarmi it was something that none of them were likely to forget. It was the largest gathering of dwarven and drow warriors since the Great Cataclysm, thousands and thousands of troops milling through a city of tents like ants in a colony. This was to be a pitched battle on a scale that Albus and Hadrian severely doubted they would see again.

Rath'gar knew that the pensieve memories of the coming battles would earn him undying prestige in the goblin nation. No goblin alive, except Rath'gar himself, would have had the honor to join in such a mighty battle in several centuries .

The fivesome were led to the command tent. Dressed in regal armor stood the drow that had first brought them to the queen. Next to him stood a female drow in a rather flashy set of gold armor. The armor was eye-catchingly trimmed with purple silk, and the repeating motif of a spider was etched carefully into the sturdy plate armor.

Upon seeing the princess, the drow captain stood at attention. Meanwhile, the female drow, who Hadrian suspected was one of Taurelilómëa's elder sisters, smiled.

"Lilómëa!" The other princess walked over and gave her sister a hug. "Me and general Drizzt were just discussing our plan for an attack. I see you have brought your courtier along too. Mother was surprisingly sparse with the details. Though, I suppose he is not too bad on the eyes." The princess made a show of raking Hadrian over with a set of appraising eyes. Hadrian realized she was attempting to get a rise out of her sister.

"You would do well to keep your eyes to yourself sister." Taurelilómëa's countenance was one that surprised the other four party members. They had yet to see the young princess act even remotely hostile, including during the few skirmishes the five had elected to engage in on the way to the Caverns of Di'zzarmi.

The other Princess raised her hands placatingly, "No harm no foul little sister. I was just having a little fun."

Turning towards Albus, Hadrian, Otho, and Rath'gar, the princess smiled at the group. "You are the slayers of Ilsensagron then. Most welcome, warriors and sorcerers of your caliber are always welcome on the field of battle. I am Maaleshiira, Eldest daughter of Neithea, _heiress_ to Kaazrill, Court of the Spider Queen, we were just about to begin our debriefing with the other Dwarven and Drow generals, would you care to join us?" Her voice, like that of her mother and sister, held an alluring quality to it, one that each of the males in the room noticed.

"We would be delighted," Albus-the-Politician-Dumbledore said with a smile, even as Hadrian rolled his eyes.

* * *

The Caverns of Di'zzarmi were some of the largest caverns Hadrian had yet seen. Easily 100 miles long, they stretched farther than the eye could see. Countless entrances dotting the walls. The Caverns were of gargantuan proportions, the red fungi that Otho had used to confirm the location of the Elder-brain covered the ground of the massive cavern, forming a sea of faintly shimmering red.

Even from the great distance that separates them and the city, Thosdagokshe was horrifyingly beautiful; the view was tainted by the knowledge of what fel monstrosities lay within. The city had two gates, the main city gate which lead to the city proper and an inner gate, one which lead to the Ulitharid and elite district of the city. Towering ramparts and walls encircled the city's outer and inner space. The issue would not be the gate, it would instead be getting past the outermost defensive force, the entrenched defenders and their outposts, to even reach the gate to begin to lay siege.

Hadrian stood with Rath'gar on the Western front, the group of five had been split up. The plan was to use them as a mobile battering ram to reinforce the weakened fronts. The combined dwarven and drow army was assaulting the Illithid City of Thosdagokshe's outer gate from Twelve different places. They were only two after all, not a huge strain on the reinforcements which were still trickling in from all over. But the commanding officers were not unaware of their power.

Albus had concerns about being split up, Rath'gar at least had experience fighting against the gnomes for the Goblin army, and he had fought in his fair share of wars—though nothing to this scale admittedly. But his fears turned out to be unfounded, the Memoriastum bridging any gap between Hadrian and the veritable hoard of enemies he faced, even without his magic and Artifacts.

It was horrifying the sheer number of combatants that they were up against. Tens of thousands of various illithid spawn and illithid armed the massive ramparts on the gate itself. Five thousand monstrosities stood in the way of even reaching the outer gate, each beast capable, eager even, of flaying a mortal's mind. Yet, these creatures relied on numbers to physically overwhelm their opponents instead of strength like the Illithid, though a few of those were commanding them. Luckily there was not even a single Ulitharid on the field, and truthfully, it was likely that using Hadrian and Albus was overkill.

The beings that Hadrian gazed down on would certainly classify as unspeakable. Grotesque _things_ that had not graced the surface of Midgard since the Cataclysm rushed his position in seemingly infinite waves. Chimera like monstrosities, different beings mashed together in a horrific and strangely squid themed deluge.

He found out the hard way that the most fearsome of his current enemies was something called a Nyraala Golem. Flailing, slimy, tentacled things, they were akin to a torso with tentacles instead of appendages. They didn't consume any Greymatter, they only paralyzed the one that touched it. What made them so dangerous is that at any given time the variety of tadpoles and other Illithidspawn that were swimming through the muck would make very short work of an unaware, distracted, occupied or paralyzed enemy. Already he had seen multiple allies freeze in place, unable to move; a death sentence on the battlefield.

"_Cleòc mi o spiorad dealanaich."_ The air around Hadrian grew charged as all lightning flickered into being. A cloak of crackling energy formed around him, it would prevent any unexpected attacks from the tiny leech-like tadpoles who sought to turn him into an illithid.

Drawing Eldingr, Hadrian joined the front line offensive. They were a sizable distance away from the walls, their current objective was to stem the tide of the seemingly never-ending flow of illithid spawn. Hadrian knew better than to use too much magic right now, the elder brain was probably aware of Albus and his own presence and their new status as dragon slayers.

Leaping over a group of dwarves, Hadrian blurred forward as he used a small amount of lightning to overcharge his muscles and body. He bent under the deadly slashes of two Nyraala golem, even as Eldingr made short work of them, parting their soft flesh like an itamae would sushi. In the blink of an eye four of the endless hoard lay on the ground cleaved apart, their threat ended.

Rathgar's movements and his own were becoming more and more synchronized, mirroring each other; after all, they had shared multiple death-defying experiences together since they entered Dhemdarum. Still, it gave Hadrian confidence as he and Rathgar began cleaving through the wall of Illithid spawn, Hadrian's spells not allowing the monstrosities to touch either of them. The duo pushed forward, acting as the tip to the dwarven contingents spear as they dove into the veritable sea of Illithid spawn.

Hadrian twisted to avoid a tentacle, a surge of magic empowered his jump backward to avoid the follow-up strike to his exposed side. Eldingr flowed like water into its wand form, and with a slash a flicker of light burst through the air, cleaving through dozens of Illithid-spawn with a wet _schlickkkk_. Their bodies went limp as they were all bisected by Hadrian's overpowered cutting spell. It had been a while since he had used such magicks, and he was surprised to see the difference in the strength of his spells.

Hadrian watched as the Company Captain, a skilled dwarf by the name of Krail, struggled to fight off three Nyraala Golems. Hadrian was caught casting a spell to save a trio of dwarves and could do nothing but watch as the captain was overwhelmed. He fell, his shining armor smeared with blood, as the surrounding Dwarves and Drow immediately began to scramble, the chain of command broken.

Realizing that using Eldingr's more limited form was a simple waste of time and energy, Hadrian flicked his hand, exploding three ghoul like Mozgriken that charged at him as he scanned the battlefield. Finding the Head Healer, Hadrian line-of-sight apparated to his side.

"The Company Captain is dead," Hadrian said to the shocked Drow, "I have foolishly been relying on my martial ability rather than thinking about this situation as a sorcerer. Tell me, what was the company's objective?"

Visibly mastering himself, the drow took a moment to reference a map splayed across a nearby table before replying. "we are tasked with clearing a foothold past the outer ditches, the generals suspect we shall be able to take the wall in several groms if we do." A grom, Hadrian had found out earlier, was about 72 of the hourglass measurements. Several could mean anything.

Hadrian had no desire to waste that much time. "What if I could clear us a path into the ditches? How many Dwarves and soldiers could join us if we broke through?"

The drow's eyes scrunched in thought. "Currently sir, this Joint-company has 150 Dwarven warriors, 150 Drow archers, and 5 Drow Healers." Hadrian narrowed his eyes, the larger number held no advantage in tight hard to move spaces. As did magic. It would likely be sufficient. "I will clear a strip, have everyone charge in behind me and follow my lead. If they close us off we will be in deep trouble." Hadrian looked at the man's confused face with some amount of amusement.

"But shouldn't we confirm with the generals," said the Head Healer hesitantly,

"There is no time," Hadrian said seriously, "We will be overrun if we do not act soon. We can not miss this opportunity." While in all likelihood he was making a rather large mistake, and circumventing what he was sure was several military protocols, Hadrian at least suspected that the mistake would not be a boring one.

"Wai-" Hadrian did not hear the rest of what the Drow was going to say to him as he apparated back into the fray. His wand flicked here and there, saving his energy with a series of rather simple spells; he'd found that overpowered cutting curses that removed appendages worked well for the Nyraala golems. Another favorite of his was a spell that placed temporary physical barriers on the target. It served to cut off the Illithid-spawn from their hive mind, driving them mad, and in some cases, to death.

The assortment of cutters, reductos, and other low-level spells makes short work of many of the fleshly abominations.

As he neared the front of the battlefield Hadrian saw Rath'gar standing on a veritable pile of bodies, a red fiery aura burning around him as he stemmed the tide of Illithid-spawn. The Goblin looked like an avenging god, his face and armor glowing a molten red as intricate swirls of goblin runes enhanced his fearsome appearance; a difficult task seeing as his armor was already drenched in the blood of his foes.

'_I have an idea but I need some time, can you hold the line on your own for some time, Rath'gar?'_ Hadrian sent through their communication ring. Rath'gar did not bother with a verbal response, his only answer was a roar that called all of the charging Illithid-spawn to him.

* * *

Rath'gar felt something stir within him as he butchered monstrosities that goblin fables had only ever whispered of. What he felt was not something the goblin had ever truly felt: _power. Not_ strength, or political and financial power, Rath'gar felt what he suspected Albus and Hadrian felt, the _power_ of Magic. His was _Fire_ and _Blood_, and it would spell the doom of all who opposed him.

After Hadrian had performed the binding ceremony on the Dawnbreaker, Rath'gar had felt a sense of happiness from the sword, a feeling that none without possession of such an artifact could be familiar with. Rath'gar had tried to communicate with it, but it seemed Dawnbreaker was not much of a communicator. So he had just begun using it like he would any normal sword. He had been shocked when after one day of using the blade in its unwieldy longsword form it had changed.

Where once sat a large unwieldy blade, now sat a thin but wickedly sharp goblin single-edged sword. The blade had golden fire dancing underneath it, the miniature sun set in its hilt had pulsed to life when he reverently picked it up. It had slowly been changing him. How did he know? Because once he was blind, and now he could see. Because suddenly, he _felt _fire in his blood that no rage could match, a connection to a power that he had never known existed within him.

Rath'gar had brought up the strange experience with Hadrian and Albus, but the two had simply shrugged and confessed a similar experience after consistent use of their divine weapons. But they both had magic, Goblins rarely had the affinity for more active magics, especially Beserkars like himself who sacrificed any small degree of active affinity in the arts to be _magic-proof_. So when the Goblin Prince felt what could only be Dawnbreaker whispering a spell in his mind as he slashed and bled his enemies, he felt a feral excitement.

He bloodied as many enemies as he could, no need to go for the kill, just slice an arm, splatter the blood across eight or nine then rinse and repeat. Soon the blood mist covered what he _knew _was 59 beings, Dawnbreaker provided him the rest of the spell. Both of the swords in his hands glowed, absorbing the life force and reveling in the flame that they had created, and in the strangest manner he had ever seen or imagined, he felt them _agree. _

Agree to what he did not know, but as he raised both swords to parry a dagger strike from one of the few Illithids on the field of battle, the Illithids mental probe shattering against his rage, the two swords Flowed into each other. He still held two swords, but he _knew_ that they were really only one. No longer Blood and Fire, but now Bloodfyre. He suspected he would need to have Albus and Hadrian explain to him what it was that just happened, but for now Rath'gar had other priorities.

_Chheam robsakhnhom chea robsa anak. Bloodfyre of mine, be thine._ Rath'gar nearly lost control of his rage in his bloodlust as every single one of the fifty-nine Illithid-spawn he had marked exploded, blood-red opaque flames rising from their forms. Their blood fuel for the bloodfyre that he had just unleashed onto the Illithid forces.

Spinning his twin Goblin swords, Rath'gar made short work of the Illithid in front of him in time to see Hadrian complete whatever it was that he had spent so much time doing. Overhead, clouds began to churn in the underground cavern, and suddenly, for the first time since Thor the Thunderer himself had come to Svartalheimr, true thunder sounded in the Caverns of Di'zzarmi.

Everything stopped. The Illithid-spawn stopped fighting as their masters and puppeteers froze unable to give them the commands needed to shake them out of their instinctual terror. The Dwarves froze. The Drow looked around wildly.

In Kaazril, the Spiderling's eyes snapped open, eight glowing eyes of magic appearing on her circlet like crown, her face pensive as she used her magic to view through time and space. A disturbance was about to take place, a momentous occasion, one she was not willing to miss.

Then, suddenly, in a brightness that blinded all who looked upon its glory, true _lightning _burst from Hadrian's hands. This was no magical lightning, this was the heated plasma that sundered the greatest oaks. The deadly force of nature chained as it jumped from one spawn to another, small branches flickering out, smiting the tiny tadpoles and nerve swimmers that tried to take down their foes through subterfuge.

The flow of lightning continued onward, linking to more and more of the foul Illithid's creations. Unprotected from such an attack as they were, without magic of their own, without a consciousness of their own, Hadrian burned them to a husk in a show of magical might that none would soon forget.

In what had seemed to be a single moment, Haradin had smote what amounted to nearly all of the Illithid spawn standing between his company and the trenches. It would serve as the first true foothold the gathered armies would carve out in this war.

With another pulse of arcane power, every single one of the otherwise chained Illithid-spawn glowed, and then, after a moment, they popped. Starting with the ones closest to him, they exploded one after the other, clearing the way completely for Hadrian and his allies to breach the trenches. Then came the shockwave. It was something that he perhaps should have thought about; they were underground afterall. Such a blast could very well bring down the cavern, if in svartalheimr such a thing was even possible.

With a roar, the crack of the lightning blasted everyone to the ground. Hadrian used his magic to will the blast into mere pressurized air. He feared turning everyone in the massive cavern, foe and friend alike, into a pulp. Even then, the pressure wave of air that followed knocked the flatfooted off their feet and kicked up a storm of dust, suddenly hiding everything from visibility.

Hadrian felt the magic strain his body. Not a surprise for such a feat—that of smiting the _entire_ swarm of Illithid- spawn standing between them and the foothold that they so desperately needed to move forward. It was an act he would never have been able to do when he first began the journey he was now on. No, this was not like any chain lightning he had summoned before. Though in the past Eldingr, allowed him to do incredible feats of magic, he suspected that it was connected to a sky. Svartalheimr had no sky, and so it came from him.

With a gesture of his free hand, Hadrian cleared the air around him in a burst of magic. Suddenly free of the dense clouds of silt, he was presented with the image of the dwarves and drow looking at him with unmasked shock and awe.

"With me!" Hadrian cried as he took off towards the trenches, towards their newly gained foothold in the cavern. Hadrian felt Albus' feelings of amusement at the sheer amount of chaos he had been able to cause in the ranks of both Illithid and allied dwarves and drow alike.

The other man had been standing with the other generals and leaders discussing how they were going to take the trenches and begin the siege. Yet, in a moment of inspiration and power, Hadrian had perhaps made their many hourglasses of planning worthless.

Still, Hadrian did not look back as he leaped into the trench, casting another bolt of lightning that blasted a group of surprised Illithid backwards. Letting go of Eldingr, the mighty weapon hung suspended in the air. Meanwhile, Hadrian's hands rose and fell as the trench terriformed into a water-like consistency. The short term transfiguration was one that he had worked hard to learn with Albus since they had come to Svartalheimr.

The tentacle ropers shrieked their displeasure and other defenders sunk into the ground, shrieks filling the air a moment later as the ground rehardened, trapping all manner of creatures midway in solid stone. From there a stab or a slash was enough to end the existences of those trapped in the embrace of mother Gaia.

* * *

Albus' eyes opened, their usual twinkling nowhere to be seen. Instead, they shone an electric blue, deep and vast like the sky or the ocean. Around him his magic crackled, visible to those with the talent for seeing with more than their eyes.

Unconcerned with the intimidating image he presented, Albus immersed himself in his magic completely. He sat there, bare-chested, as he came out of his meditative trance. His dark grey hair hung long around his head, his body muscled, no longer frail from age, it was the body of a man just out of his prime; with the magic of a centennial to boot. It was a peculiar experience to know you are older than you feel—a problem he doubted many his age have.

With a casual flick of his hand, Albus summoned the Deathstick from where it rested against the wall. Albus looked at it curiously, it had not spoken to him since it had tried to possess him, to force him into the Land of Eternal Night. He wondered what it meant, whether such artifacts had such feelings like disappointment or irritation or anger.

Still, they served both their purpose and him, so he had little to worry about in the immediate future. He knew that he would reunite the Hallows, a few days here or there would mean little to those who had waited millennia to be rejoined. With a thrum, Albus's magic reached out, his tunic flowing onto his body even as Mondstral and the Darhain cuffs flowed onto him like water running up his fingers and around his left wrist.

Reaching over to the armor rack, Albus pulled on the pearlescent leather armor that Hadrian and Albus had gotten made from the hide of Ilsensagron. They were masterworks, all of the metal parts made with Mithril scavenged from the dragon's hoard.

The leather was incredibly light, and magically resistant to boot—only something made from Null Iron could compare in that respect. Hadrian himself had drawn the design for the runes that the dwarven craftsman had hammered into the chest piece, a cloak of the same dark pearlescent material, gloves, a belt, leg bracers, boots and pauldrons. The sigils hidden in plain sight, once activated, allowed him to see his vitals, see his magical reserves, and they even absorbed ambient magic allowing him to recharge faster. The armor was truly a masterpiece, and both Hadrian and he had been perfectly happy to pay the dwarves a small—or large, depending on who one asked—for the work.

Casting such thoughts from his mind, Albus refocused himself on his true task. His young student could use some education around the beauty of battle transfiguration, and perhaps showing the uppity young man why _he was_ considered one of the most powerful men alive wasn't a bad idea. They had prepared the best they could, now Albus would have the opportunity to see how different sieging a mind-flayer fortification was compared to Numengrad, Grindlewald's enchanted fortress that had later become his prison.

Albus walked out of the mundane tent he had claimed as his own and into the trenches Hadrian had cleared. The thought of Numengrad caused memories from the war with Grindlewald to come unbidden to the forefront of the wizened man's mind. So much death, was history doomed to repeat itself here?

Shaking himself from the past, Albus refocused.

It had been two grom since Hadrian had single-handedly taken the trenches—a whole 25 cycles ahead of schedule. It had made Hadrian an instant hero to the Dwarves and Elves in what was now colloquially being called the Lightning Division.

Albus himself had been vital in transfiguring the rough trenches into an actually usable defensible position. Still, he began to tire of being delegated to strategy and fortification all the time. So much so that when the generals objected to his desire to join Hadrian in attacking the gate, Albus had made clear he and Hadrian were not soldiers of either of their respective armies, and as such, were free to do what they liked after they

It had caused some issues, but Hadrian's swift capture of what both peoples generals had insisted could only be taken in a matter of multiple groms silenced any further protests. Hadrian and Albus decided that for the frontal assault against the outer gates they would be attacking as a unit.

While Albus was sure Hadrian did not notice, he was personally very amused by the hungry looks that Maaleshiira and the other female Drow and Dwarves were shooting the young arcanist, and to a lesser extent, himself. He greatly enjoyed their confusion when they snuck into "Hadrian's" tent during rest periods and were confused to find that there was no one in it, just his magically warded trunk and an empty cot.

It seemed that being a powerful warrior, and an even stronger sorcerer, made you rather interesting to the female population of soldiers in a place where might was right.

Otho had surprisingly enough taken charge of the Orzûm and their soldiers, his own military experience and powers, coupled with the Favor of Joradin, enough to make the smooth transition. It had the unfortunate consequence of changing their party dynamic. Where there were once five, there were now only four. One of their more physical attackers being replaced with Taurelilómëa, who they had yet to really see in action.

"Albus!" Hadrian's voice rang out from across the trenches that served as their campground. Albus turned to see his young student. Hadrian had filled out even more, the constant battle and exercise of his magic and his body doing them both good.

"Hadrian!" Albus called out similarly, the two had agreed to use today's battle and subsequent fighting as a training opportunity. They had been admittedly rather lax of late, and while Hadrian was progressing marvelously, fighting Dragons was not a teachable moment. It was a do or die moment—something fate already seemed to give Hadrian enough of without Albus stepping in.

"Are you ready to attack the gate today? The Dwarves and Drow had their eight cycles to try and do so, I do believe we and the Lightning Company get to take a crack at it today." Albus could only despair at the cocky smirk on his apprentice's face.

"The defenders have put a tremendous number of projectile armaments on the ramparts, approaching with a large force has proven to be disastrous for the Ironside and Widow Companies" The young man's features were the picture of excitement, something that would have greatly worried Albus had he not already decided to stop being worried about what this clearly insane man decided was fun.

Speaking of fun, it was time he had some of his own.

Albus had found great enjoyment in harassing his young friend about his forced courting of the Princess, upon her return the two were supposed to share a meal and talk, Hadrian and Taurelilómëa were seemingly both fine ignoring the topic, but it seemed that Maaleshiira was less inclined to do so. Indeed, she had reported her expectation to Hadrian earlier that cycle. Taurelilómëa would be returning from her time with Maaleshiira sometime soon, and when she did, Hadrian and Taurelilómëa were expected to at least try to make friends.

"Yes, though I think you want to take the gate so it will give you an excuse to beg off your plans tonight,"

"Albus, it is not like that," Hadrian turned a particular shade of pink, "I don't even know her!"

"Well luckily for you my dear boy, that is the exact logic behind courting in the first place." Albus let out a laugh, even as Hadrian just glared balefully at the not-quite-so-old coot.

The two began walking towards the transfigured ramparts, it would be easier to apparate the 1/2 mile that separated the trenches and the edge of the outer wall frontier. Hadrian was fast adjusting to the role of being a military leader, he had a keen mind for strategy, and was beginning to care deeply for his rather sizable force.

Hadrian and Albus had taken to training the men in Swordfighting and the use of a polearm, both of which the two sorcerers found to be the height of irony. Still, it had made a sizable difference as the previously 305 soldier joint-company had only lost 12 of their number since Hadrian had taken over command mid-battle. After his overwhelming victory no one was going to suggest that he not continue to lead the company, so he was given an honorary command and position in the Dwarven and Drow armies.

That was not the magical pair had done to improve their company's chances.

They had spent nearly five cycles charging the runes that they had taught their men to carve into their armor and equipment. Runes for cleanliness, strength, and hardness, runes to absorb energy, runes to block mental intrusion, and runes to deflect arrows. It had nearly stemmed the number of deaths that they had every day to all but a few unlucky or less skilled soldiers—usually a combination of both.

The Archers were given enchanted quivers with duplication charms on them, the charms were linked to the blood of their soldiers so there was little risk of enemies taking the gear and using it against them.

It was the first time Albus had gotten Hadrian to appreciate how utilitarian the magic of wizards was. He himself knew spells that could summon asteroids to attack a foe, but truthfully, he was not sure that this knowledge would ever be as great as Albus living twelve decades amongst wizards who only truly learned the swish and flick kind of magic; it had made the man a veritable wellspring of spells.

Hadrian and Albus stood at the top of the ramparts, the red glow of the caverns giving the entire area a rather grim and sanguine appearance. They saw the standard of the Lightning Company fluttering in the distance. The duo took a step off the Ramparts before spinning in mid-air, disappearing from the now secure trench camp with a resounding crack.

* * *

Albus and Hadrian appeared mid twist and continued to walk forward, the transition from one place to another seamless.

While it was officially Hadrian's command, there were few who took issue with Albus' command by proxy, Hadrian was after all the Elder wizard's apprentice.

Immediately the Drow and Dwarven warriors immediately stood at attention. 605 was a far larger force than Hadrian had expected. To make it more manageable, Albus had advised the younger man to split the forces into squads, 50 teams of 13—10 Dwarves and 3 of the Drow Archers per team, the five healers remained in the forward command structure with two teams protecting them at all times.

The further division of the company into squads had confused the Drow and Dwarven Generals, some of whom protested at such a liberty being taken with their soldiers, but Albus had reminded them that they had allowed Hadrian the command.

Hadrian had called the 35 active duty squads' commanding officers with him and explained their plan of attack. So far, the Dwarves had used ladders and the like but had been repeatedly overwhelmed by the Illithid and Ulitharid that were well prepared and entrenched on the walls and ramparts that Hadrian aimed to take.

The outer wall that encircled the City of Thosdagokshe had three gates, the main gate was impregnable, it was so overwhelmingly defended that even daring to attack it would result in huge casualties. The Eastern gate was currently being assaulted for the third day by Maaleshiira and her Drow and Drider warriors, Otho's Company, and the Orzûm. It was most assuredly going to fall any day now.

Hadrian's Lightning Company, the Widow Company and the Ironside Company were all stationed at the Westmost gate, with the Widow company and the Dwarven Ironside company having besieged the gate for eight cycles with little luck. The majority of the combined force was waiting at the main gate, their intention to break through one of the side gates, and open the main gate from inside. It would be very difficult, but even with heavy losses, it would still be less costly than a frontal assault, something they would be forced to do when they sieged to the City's inner gates.

Hadrian and Albus were going to breach the gate, and then the Lightning Company would do its work. Albus and Hadrian had been surprised and baffled to learn that neither the Dwarves nor the Drow were willing to authorize the use of any sort of mechanized siege engine for the capture of the outer wall. It seemed they were both saving those for the main assault on the city proper and did not want to alert the Illithid of what siege machines they were going to bring to bear on the city proper.

It was a good thing that Hadrian and Albus were not mechanized.

* * *

The two field commanders ordered their men to stay out of range of the projectiles until they signaled for them. The two wizards strode forward, Albus had insisted that this gate be an exercise in battle transfiguration, rather than just brute-forcing it like Hadrian had repeatedly proved able and willing to do.

Albus, while uniquely suited for shows of brute force, had always prided himself on his ability to finesse situations, it was something that he had always thought made Grindlewald so dangerous. The man had been many things, most notably a powerhouse, which, false-modesty aside, was an ephilit he had earned as well.

Still, it was that power coupled with his vast knowledge of charms that made him _deadly._ Albus was much the same, but simply for transfiguration. Reality, as a former student had once jokingly said, was his bitch.

Both men had their hoods up as they walked casually towards the tower, immediately the two were assaulted by the alarm being sounded, clanging bells and shrieks. Shortly, the duo's stroll was interrupted as hundreds of projectiles were sent at them, there were far more illithid rather than the mindless illithid spawn on the outer gate then there had been in the trenches the other day. As the projectiles neared the duo, Hadrian waited for Albus' move.

With a murmured "_Avifors",_ Albus tapped his staff on the ground. There was no visible pulse of magic or anything so grandiose, but as they got within ten feet of Albus and Hadrian—who was ready to erect a shield at a moments notice—every single arrow morphed, turning into a black bird. Each and every arrow that had neared their position was now a massive crow, transfigured by the transfiguration master.

The birds, their beaks glinting like grey steel in the various flickering lights given off by glowing fungi and torches, spun. Their numbers growing even as the transfigured birds flowed around Albus and Hadrian, their ghastly crows creating a cacophony of noise as their numbers swelled; every arrow adding crow after crow to their murder.

Hadrian watched in silent awe as the air itself seemed to be filled with a churning darkness. Suddenly, in a moment of purposeful action, Albus brandished the Elder wand. The murder exploded outwards, a swarm of beating wings and cawing corvids closing the distance between the duo and the gate.

Hadrian watched in awe as the murder finally reached the defenders. They began shredding everything fleshy as yet another wave of the murder began to divebomb the gate's ramparts. The whole battlefield could hear the illithid guards; screams of frustration and fear, genuine terror as they realized that the transfigured birds had no minds for them to control. Yet, just when they thought it could get no worse, each bird of the next wave was transfigured into ten arrows,

Their screams of the murder taking place on the ramparts replaced the cawing of the murder in the air.

All the while Albus strode forward, implacable, seeming unstoppable. In response, the gate opened and hundreds of the illithid spawn poured out. Yet Albus showed no hesitation, bending down he pressed his wand against the dirty cavern floor and spoke his second spell of the day, "_Et Vitreus"._

The ground rippled ominously. Hadrian swore he could see fear in creatures who should not be capable of feeling it.

A second stretched into two; then, Albus' spell took effect. The sand turned to glass in a flicker, the once dusty dark black sand now glittering innocently in the space between the transfiguration master and the approaching hoard.

With no warning, the glass grew. Like a plant fed life-bringing rain, the plants stretched upwards. At first, the small sculptures were crushed under the boots and forms of the few attacking force.

Then, without warning, shrieks began filling the air. The glass plants, acting like small little fractal blades of grass with engorgement charms on them, stabbed through the feet of the approaching force before growing hooked barbs into the flesh of their enemies, pinning them in place.

Albus felt the thrum that he always did using his powers in this kind of unbridled way. Glancing at Hadrian, Albus was surprised to see a look of pensiveness on the younger man's face.

'_Are you alright?_' Albus sent Hadrian through their blood connection.

'_Yes, I was just thinking.'_ Hadrian returned, casting an overpowered switching spell at the glass in front of him. He guided his magic to target one of the larger creatures still unbothered by the rapidly growing glass grass that now covered the space between them, illithid blood shining on the shimmering blades. The creature pausing its slow trek forward as it collapsed suddenly, a large puddle of organs appearing where the glass he had switched directly into the creature's body had once been.

'_Care to share?'_

'_Yes, how did you not beat Voldemort? Surely there was no possible way that he could have stood up to your level of power?'_ Albus blinked at the question, his head cocking in shame.

'_Hadrian, why do you think that I had so many positions thrust on me after my defeat of Grindelwald?'_

'_I am not sure, I expect it wasn't because you were the best person for the job?' _Albus could feel his young apprentice's mirth at the jab.

'_It was because they were terrified of me. Grindelwald, and magical powerhouses like ourselves, terrified the average wizarding folk. We are to put it politely beyond them. It is likely that an entire department of Aurors could not take me down, and that Hadrian, makes people nervous. It was why until our jaunt through the Nightmare realm, I had never truly let myself use my true strength. There was no room for it. Always remember that who is protected by a statute of secrecy is rarely whom it claims to protect. So, they made me Supreme Mugwump, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, and a great many other things as well. Things that I never wanted, but things that had I not accepted the burden of, would have, in the minds of the people, freed me to do more of this.' _Albus gestured at the carnage in front of them.

Albus stared at the carnage in front of him with a grim expression, hardly responding as Hadrian signaled for the Lightning Company to join them.

* * *

Hadrian and Albus's victory had bruised some ego's it seemed, and as a "reward" for their second consecutive victory, they were not to be called to join the frontlines for several more Gorms. Hadrian for his part was fine with it. His impromptu conversation with Albus as the two men had provoked several unwelcome thoughts in the duo. Hadrian sat waiting for Taurelilómëa on the walls of the west gate where they had shifted their forward base to.

"Hello Hadrian," Taurelilómëa's voice echoed from behind him as Hadrian whirled around, his hand jumping to Eldingr in surprise. His grip on Eldingr relaxing as he saw the Princess standing gracefully on the wall behind him. It always disconcerted him that he struggled to even sense Taurelilómëa, a benefit of having divine blood in her he suspected, two types of elves, and at least one god's blood flowed through her veins, it was likely a combination of such.

"Hello Princess," Hadrian greeted formally. "How goes the battle at the eastern gate?"

The Princess' pale skin and dark hair were done in the same cascading ponytail that he had come to expect from her, her black cloak and scale male glinting in the shadows of Di'zzarmi. The red haze created by the glowing fungi gave her a pink appearance, one that in Hadrian's eyes only heightened the thrum he felt when in proximity to her.

"My sister and Otho have taken the eastern gate as well. They were most disconcerted to know that you had taken the western gate before them. The frontal siege continues at an impasse. We are not losing many soldiers currently, but we are certainly not gaining ground. The connections the Illithid have makes military planning very difficult, this close to the Elder Brain the illithid's connection to it were far stronger than anything we or the dwarves had dealt with in the past."

'_ALBUS! HELP!'_ Immediately Hadrian felt Albus' presence in his mind.

'_What happened Hadrian?' _Hadrian felt rather than heard Albus' seriousness

'_I don't know what to say,' _Hadrian knew Albus would feel his embarrassment.

'_Hadrian. Just ask her if she would like to eat, you are doing fine I am sure, now pay attention to your date.'_ With his part said, and confident that Hadrian was safe from everything except himself, Albus abandoned Hadrian to his fate, chuckling to himself as he did so.

Coughing awkwardly to fill the rather uncomfortable silence that had grown after his poor attempt at pleasantries, Hadrian decided to take Albus' advice.

"Well, I don't suppose you are feeling hungry? I have prepared a meal for the two of us." The princess smiled faintly.  
"That sounds lovely, where will we be dining?"

"If you would be so kind and take my arm, I believe I can take us to our meal." Hadrian offered her his hand, feeling a warmth in his chest and across his cheeks as he breathed in her scent, faintly earthy like vetiver, and at the same time there was the hint of something floral, jasmine perhaps.

Hadrian stifled the desire to swallow, and with a breath he apparated him and his date onto a small outcropping that lined a cliff looking out onto the recently captured western gate.

All that was visible was the glowing mass of red fungi, the neon fluorescent light that they gave off a shimmering haze from so high up. Hadrian raised his hand, palm up, and after a burst of arcane power, created a table and chairs from the ground. A wave of eldingr, and the rough shape was replaced by detailed and intricate designs. Then, reaching into his cloak, Hadrian pulled out a picnic basket. Finally, with another flick of his wand, the basket unpacked itself, the various foods flying out and arraying themselves in front of her.

Taurelilómëa for her part was transfixed by the simplicity of the magic used, utilitarian was the one word that Hadrian realized wizard magic had above any kind he had yet seen. They were a selfish and lazy lot, and in that laziness they had used magic to make life easy. It was something that only those who lacked such utilitarian magic could appreciate.

The two sat down and began to eat, it was perhaps the first time Hadrian had seen her so excited. Midgardian food, Hadrian realized, was very very different from what the denizens of Svartalfheim ate. He noted that she was particularly enthusiastic about the scones he had made.

Recently Hadrian had taken to some elvish wine that the drow forces had with them. It was a sweet thing, harvested from an underground fruit that didn't exist on Midgard. For today he had pulled out an expensive bottle of wine Albus had insisted on bringing with them; he'd thought it was stupid when first suggested, though he now grudgingly admitted having some good wine on hand was proving useful.

He decanted the wine, swirling it in the intricate decanter he had conjured, and poured it into a crystal glass. Holding it out to Taurelilómëa, Hadrian almost laughed at her surprised look.

"Try it, it's wine." Hadrian said with a laugh

"But it is red," Taurelilómëa said with baffled expression, "I thought _miruvórë _was always green or pale in color." Nevertheless, she cautiously sipped it. Hadrian could tell when the flavors hit her tongue; her eyes widened, and her lips parted at the variety of flavors, the Cheval Blanc 1947 St-Emilion from Bordeaux was well known for a reason.

Hadrian had little to no experience with fine wines, and Albus was the one who had stocked the trunk with the alcohol, so he had no idea that the bottle he had opened was worth over a hundred thousand pounds. Hadrian himself took a rather large gulp, grimacing at the taste, sour and complex. He had left Midgard a 13-year-old, needless to say that he didn't have a great appreciation for the liquid treasure. They both sat in uncomfortable silence.

"Can I ask you a question?" Taurelilómëa cautiously asked Hadrian, it seemed that the calm sensation that he was beginning to experience was one shared by the half-elf girl across from him.

"Of course," Hadrian said, his overactive mind going quiet for once.

"How did you know what to do back in the Quivering Caverns?" Hadrian sighed at the question.

"The people of Midgard have forgotten the true breadth of magic and its many many many graced peoples, the drow are unknown, forgotten to time to the Midgardians, the illithid only spoken in nightmares, the dwarves and elves only in legend." Hadrian studied Taurelilómëa's face. "The very idea that I would have seen a demon of any kind was laughable to me but a year ago, then I fought the Lord of the Fifth Circle, and _then we killed the Demon. _That was in addition to the two possessed demons my mentor and I fought in the Dhemdarum surprise.

"Since then, my mentor and I have taken to studying the few texts we have that have such information in them. It is why we are seeking out the elves, in hopes that they can help us stave off the demonic war that we know is coming."

For reasons unknown to Hadrian, Taurelilómëa looked surprisingly irritated at the end of that.

"I have been in the Deep since I was young, and so, I have never been in the elvish army, not learned how to fight the demons, the way my cousins have, but we have other monsters here, monsters no less scary, monsters no less dangerous. By accident or by genius, you have indebted the Dwarves and Drow to you, that in itself is an accomplishment, but I think you will find that the Elves in _Alfheimr _are rather unconcerned with your plight. You Hadrian are a kind man, but that you are a man makes you a mutt in the eyes of the elves, I have heard your men talk of your kindness and valor, it does you justice, but the Elven-kings of Alfheimr are many things, but altruistic is rarely one of them."

Taurelilómëa took a deep breath, here eyes rising to meet Hadrian's emerald orbs. "There is a reason that I live here in the Deep rather than with my father in Alfheimr, if I were you I would curb your expectation of my fathers peoples. It is unlikely that they will do what you hope."

Hadrian looked at the half-Elf-Half-drow he was friends with? dating? He really didn't know what to call her, they were courting, but it wasn't like either knew anything about each other. Even this dinner they were both being the princess and the Midgardian Sorcerer—not Hadrian and Taurelilómëa.

"I don't suppose you would like to go on a walk?" Hadrian said suddenly standing up, completely ignoring her incredulous look at his seeming lack of reaction at her heartfelt warning, the young man held out his hand to the still seated Princess.

"If you insist." Taurelilómëa stood up, taking Hadrian's hand. Hadrian felt a shudder go down his form as he felt his magic react to hers. He had been... struggling with his hormones lately, part of the issues of being magically pushed towards your prime was apparently dealing with all of puberty in a rush. It was only due to his occlumency and the very sternly worded warning from Albus that it could be construed as a major offense against the Drowish princess if he was to engage with any of the willing females while courting the Princess. Albus' warning had been one of the only reasons that he had remained as _controlled _as he had been. Though it had proved far harder than he expected.

Hadrian had never experienced more than the attraction he shared with Daphne, this was _different, _foreign and forced. Taking a deep breath in, Hadrian released it.

"I would like to get to know you, you will at the very least be my companion for the foreseeable future, so tell me about yourself, what was it like being the daughter of the Spiderling?" Taurelilómëa looked at him surprised, before letting out a small smile.

"It was always eventful Hadrian, never a dull day. I was the first child that my mother had in recent memory, my sisters are far older than they look," Taurelilómëa smirked at the flicker of surprise that flitted across Hadrian's face.

"I was not aware that they were that old. They don't look at it." Again the damnable smirk.

"Well it is the benefit of being Drow and the daughter of a demigoddess, you are more immortal than you are mortal. I spent my childhood learning magic, politics, strategy and the like. Since I am for lack of a better term, the least drow-like of any of my sisters." Taurelilómëa's light grey coloration seemed to color slightly, the smallest dusting of a blush.

"What was your favorite magic to learn?" Hadrian asked curiously, stopping to lean against the cliff face.

"I have always been fascinated by summoning magics and hexes, it is rarely as flashy as the magic that you seem to favor, but with the right strategy it is effective enough," Hadrian looked at Taurelilómëa inquisitively.

"Hexes are something we have on Midgard as well, but how do yours work?" Hadrian asked inquisitively, he was always interested in learning esoteric magics, ones that the Potter family knew little to nothing about excited him far more than he would care to admit. His eyes literally glowed with excitement.

"Hexes are a bit different from spells, though they can achieve very similar results, they grant powers or weaken enemies." Thinking on something for a moment, the princess nodded her head as if she had decided on a course of action.

"Here, let me show you. Cast a shield, one that you would trust to defend you against most things. I am going to hit you with a paralysis hex." Hadrian nodded his assent, casting a mage shield with a casual gesture, his command over the spell greatly improved by the sheer number of times he had used it since he had begun his adventure with Albus.

Hadrian watched as her eyes flashed purple, and noticed nothing. He opened his mouth to tell her that it had failed, but, he realized, he was unable to move. He watched her with bated breath as she approached him.

"It is a powerful magic, bypassing most protections, thankfully it is a magic that is very coveted and rarely known outside of the Drow Shamans who had learned the art from the Great Spider." She leaned close to him, "for all of your power Hadrian are you able to fight my magic?"

Hadrian barely heard her whispered challenge as he immersed himself in his magic. This was one of the most peculiar experiences he had ever had. It was like a touch spell, a spell that had been channeled directly into him ignoring many of his defenses to directly strike him.

Hadrian felt the waves of power wrapped around his form, though he would not ever know that it was so, Taurelilómëa watched him as his eyes erupted with green light as his magic crackled and resisted the Hex, but it was like his own magic was being used against him, there was nothing to find purchase on. Nothing to fight. The slightest widening of his pupils showed his shock at the realization, the rush of fear was vastly different than those he had recently felt, fighting the lich, his first pitched battle, fighting the Ulitharid, or even Ilsensagron. This was more acute, this was fear of the sheer helplessness he felt as the hex shut him down, stopping any avenue for escape. Suddenly, the paralysis ended abruptly, Hadrian nearly collapsing as he resisted physically and magically against the foreign magic.

Hadrian stood up, his face the visage of struggle as his magic churned at the unwelcome experience, leaking out of him, a visible aura of crackling energy exploding from him unbidden as he struggled to bring it back under his control. For a split second he lit up the area like a bolt from Eldingr his rather incredible presence bursting forth.

It was the split second that it took for him to take control over his magic that overwhelmed Taurelilómëa with its truth. Her own body is currently frozen with sensation of Hadrian's magic. It was electric, like being in front of a living bolt of lighting.

As quick as it came it was gone, all traces of Hadrian's presence hidden. His eyes had snapped shut. When he opened them, they were no longer the ocean of green fire that they were, they were a turquoise fire, with another blink they returned to their normal green infernos, another and they were back to their glowing neon green.

All hints of his power gone, Hadrian stared at her with concern

"I apologize, that was a bit of an overreaction, it was a peculiar experience, one neither my magic nor myself was truly prepared for. Your hexes are indeed fearsome, princess." Hadrian had a slightly bashful look on his face.

"I did not expect your magic to be quite that spectacular, the way you behave, it shows no hint of your true power." Taurelilómëa's voice had an interesting tone to it, one Hadrian was surprised to be flattered by. The two sat in silence. Hadrian ashamed by his lack of control and reaction, and Taurelilómëa contemplating a man who, regardless of her knowledge of his abilities and first-hand experience with them, she was seeing as if for the first time.

* * *

Rath'gar's bloodthirsty grin at the sight of the small ball of fire that he had managed to summon to his hand would have alarmed Albus had he been paying attention to the goblin whom he had been instructing to attempt to harness his newfound affinity to Fire. He was however distracted by his thoughts on his wayward student. Hadrian had, after experiencing the Princesses admittedly powerful ability with hexes, thrown himself into practicing trying to overcome them.

Hadrian had as a result been spending more and more time with the Princess, something that made Albus grin. It wasn't the princesses stunning beauty that had Hadrian taking up all of her time, though he was sure that didn't hurt; it was the new magic that she could expose him to that pushed him to her. The boy really was a Ravenclaw at heart.

No chance at talking to the pretty girl just because, but through a nugget of knowledge in front of him and he is now very interested.

The combined force had managed to take the front gate, Otho and the Elder Princess' forces taking the gate and allowing the bulk of the force in. He could tell that Hadrian, like himself, was grateful for the break, even if the lack of action was making them more antsy then they expected.

The master and apprentice had taken to spending most of their time training, either themselves or the soldiers who were still under their command, and it was beginning to show.

Albus, Hadrian, Taurelilómëa and Rath'gar practiced fighting as a team, fighting in several small skirmishes as the full army moved to box the city in. Taurelilómëa's presence greatly changed the structure of their small team, freeing Albus up to do more damage, but also forcing the two wizards to focus a bit more on defense.

Albus's attention was brought back to Rath'gar as the Goblin fired a gout of red flames from his hand, immolating the target Albus had set up twenty feet away. With another flick and a sigh, eight flesh like monsters rose from the ground, nothing more than transfigured stone, and approached the goblin.

Rath'gar moved fluidly, leaping into the air. Dawnbreaker buried deep in the face of the first enemy even as his free hand fired a bolt of flames into the second one, causing blood-red flames to engulf his prey. Spinning around, absentmindedly tearing Dawnbreaker free, Rath'gar ducked under the third and fourth conjured monster's swipes, his sword making clean work of them as well.

Seeing the other four crowded together, Rathgar threw a ball of fire from his gnarled hand. Which, in an impressive display of power, exploded, turning the other four conjured monstrosities back to the pile of stones they truly were.

They were currently two cycles of march from the city. The attacks on their encampments had become more frequent until they had suddenly stopped, the Illithids seemingly realizing siege was inevitable. Albus and Hadrian had prepared several siege spells, dumping their entire daily reserve of magic into the spells. No one had any idea what they would face, and no one wanted to be underprepared. Nor did Albus or Hadrian want a longer than necessary siege, it was a conversation that happened a few cycles ago, one that had triggered a sense of urgency in both of them.

* * *

**::Two Cycles Earlier::**

Albus and Hadrian sat in their trunk, staring at the siege level spell tomes that littered their trunk's study.

"Albus?" Hadrian's voice brought the older mage's attention back to his protege.

"Yes, Hadrian?" The Ravenclaw had an ability to sit and _absorb_ texts in a way that frankly made Albus a bit more jealous than he was proud of. The Potter Memoriastum helping him connect the dots as it were with new knowledge in a way that Albus had to rely on his own, frankly exceptional, occlumency for.

"What do you think is going on in Midgard?" Hadrian's question brought Albus up short.

It had been a strange experience. The two had been adventuring for what felt like so long, he had frankly pushed all thoughts of the status of Midgard out of his mind, it was a mundane world, one that was hard to think about while surrounded by the fantastic realm that was Svartalheimr.

"I don't know Hadrian," Albus' voice betrayed his confusion at the relevancy of the question.

"Don't you wonder about Midgard? We have little to no idea of how much time has passed, what has happened, you are a linchpin in both Britain and the International Wizarding World, haven't you wondered what happened in your absence?"

Albus' eyes flickered angrily at the suggestion that he was not invested in the world he had given a century to leading, to teaching, to guiding.

"That is most certainly an unfair accusation Hadrian." Albus' dark hair moved on its own, an invisible wind springing up. His magic had grown tremendously since he had begun exercising its full potential in Svartalfheim.

With a breath, Albus calmed himself, finding himself surprised by his own lack of control.

"I am sorry, that was out of line Albus." The younger man's hands were raised in a placating gesture. "I just meant don't you worry about what is happening in Midgard? We have been wandering Svartalhiemr for what could be as much as a year, even with the Spiderlings insistence that time moves faster here than it does in Midgard. It isn't really like we understand when we will be able to return to Midgard." Hadrian ran his hands through his hair, a trait he got from his birth father, and one that showed how nervous he truly felt.

"I know there is no way for me to even inquire about the ongoing occurrences in Midgard because we have no way to do so. There is no sense in us getting distracted from our current and very dangerous task when there is little to no way for us to figure out how to breach the realms. We have our tasks and need to focus on them, or else there will be no way for us to do what needs to be done." Albus's explanation had made Hadrian nod his head in acceptance, but Albus knew deep inside of himself, that some of what he said was a simple platitude, that the truth was that when he had left there was a sizable possibility that the entire world had fallen apart at the seams.

Hadrian had been right, though they had no way of knowing the passage of time, there was no justification for them taking even a minute longer than what the had to for they did not even have a way to return to Midgard yet, and they were still far from gaining the support of the elves or reuniting the hallows.

* * *

Hadrian stood, garbed in his battle armor, the scales of Ilsensagron glittering pearlescent black-purple. The two drow guards standing at attention as he approached the forward command center. Nodding his head at them, Hadrian entered the tent to see the other company leaders and generals arguing over the map of the City Thosdagokshe. One of the Orzum touched the stone table, the map becoming a three-dimensional structure.

It was the outer gate to the city of Thosdagokshe, which managed to be both beautiful and craven at the same time, a feat that Hadrian never expected to see accomplished.

It was gargantuan. A truly monstrous creation. Easily a thousand feet tall. In the days preceding this moment, more of the Dwarven king's armies had reached the Caverns of Di'zzarmi, along with the Spider Queen herself, and a large force of Drow soldiers. Additionally, there was what seemed to be a force of two-thousand Grey-Giants. How they even moved through what sometimes were the cramped tunnels of the Underdeep was a mystery to Hadrian and Albus.

From what the military leaders were discussing, the assault would be a full-frontal assault. The initial contact primarily being with siege weapons and sieging spells.

Hadrian found these meetings boring for the most part, but made sure to tune back in whenever he was mentioned.

"As for our two resident Midgardians, they are perhaps the most experienced here with wards of the varied nature that the Illithid could have created. There may be Illithid here who are ancient, ones from a time when the realms were whole, Ulitharid who have the powers of a wizard or an Elf, Illithid who have studied the varied forbidden arts, those holed in Thosdagokshe are not like any we have yet fought." The gorgeous Drow queen pausing shooting from her wrist a web, which coiled effortlessly into images of the true monstrosities that the Ulitharid were capable of.

"Let us not forget the difference between the Illithid-Spawn and their masters, or the Elder brain who is the master of all of the enemy in front of us. Yet, even then, they are all merely pawns of the-many-tentacled-one." In truth, it was a detail Hadrian forgot at times, he was _much _better at focusing on the enemy in front of him in the here and now, not the one pulling the strings. Dragging his mind back to the battle preparations, Hadrian refocused in time to hear the end of the mighty drow's next statement. "We have but three Midgardian allies here, but they are mighty indeed, we would be grateful for any and all assistance they can provide. I have heard that Hadrian has taken command of the Lightning joint Company, I was most impressed to hear how they have fared under your command. I offer those soldiers for your command for the duration of this siege, may you lead them well. "

The other generals and leaders nodded their heads at her words. The rest of the planning passed without much further event. Hadrian, Albus, and the Lighting Company, it seemed, would be used at the discretion of the Spiderling, and while it was clear some of the dwarves were less than happy about it, none were interested in contesting her.

Tomorrow would be beginning of the end of their time in Svartalfheim, Hadrian knew that both Rath'gar or Albus would agree that sieging an Illithid city would be a memory they would remember till their last day.

A/N: Hello beloved readers,  
I would like to begin with an apology for the time it took to get you this, but there have been exciting developments!  
Corona has been actually taking more of my time for writing rather than less of it, but ... drumroll... I now have a BETA! I am very excited about it. Please give a round of mental applause for our friend Inheritence1990, our new BETA! Yes, it deserves all caps, because no one wanted to do it and Inheritence1990 stepped up, so thank him for the superior chapters.

Now, this chapter was a lot of set up and a decent time pass. I would like to make some comments.

1\. Taurelilómëa and Hadrian - Right now poor Hadrian is going through a lot. Like a lot lot. He has matured faster due to his magic helping him reach his peak faster. The inverse of what's happening to good old Albus, now, this means specifically that the poor man is a bit... ehm lusty. It is also a little bit of the reasoning for his impulse decision making.

Hadrian is trying to be friends with Taurelilómëa, and yes he will eventually give her a nickname, but she is a princess who he actually has ended up courting... so forgive him for being formal and using her full name. Part of the issue there is that Hadrian is not a people person. He is a bookworm and magic person, he is, in other words, a nerd, a badass one but still. So he kind of doesn't really know what the hell to do with Taurelilómëa. Truthfully he was very interested in that not happening but the Queen, another person who has her own agenda, very much pushed him into it more firmly. Now I kind of doubt this will be a Harem, just because honestly that sounds exhausting, and Hadrian doesn't like people much, and the author doesn't want to have to keep track of that many female love interests..

2\. Now, I am trying to show how Albus and Hadrian are growing, they are growing through experience time, exposure to far more magic than on Midgard, and far more dangerous situations then either of them are used to. I hope that was clear...( Do let me know if it was or wasn't.)

3\. Yes they will be going back to Midgard, and yes they will be dealing with a rather different set of disasters there. I can happily tell you since it was in the summary, that we will see the Triwizard Tournament, and no that doesn't mean all of this happened in 8 months... Think about what happens when the leader of the tournament organization, Head of the United Nations, the head of the Judiciary branch of the British MoM, Political bloc head for the light families in the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts and the and safety protocols goes AWOL with his apprentice for an indeterminate amount of time.

Also, that trainwreck tournament in cannon was with his direct input and insistence, if he isn't there... yeah that's what I thought. Be pumped, it is going to be awesome.

4\. Sadly for you guys, we are many chapters away from that. So don't get too impatient. We have 2-3 other things to do before that. Also, they have to get back to Midgard, so don't think it's going to be back to Midgard anytime soon.

5\. Now some of you don't like Tob. I don't plan on making him part of the party at any point but he is a clever and unique take on a character that is always done the same. So I am not making any promises.

6\. Thanks to all you reviewers, I'm blown away by the response to my f'ing around in JK's sandbox...

194 Reviews  
706 Favorites  
68,702 Views  
7 communities  
891 Followers.

That is more than I imagined and I cannot express how humbled and honored I am that you are enjoying my story as much as you have been. Thank you for reading. 115,000 words and we are only a bit less than a third through my planned path of the story.

Watching Clone Wars has made me badly want to do something there, I just don't want to take too many projects on so you will have to wait for my HP/SW xover. Ill do it eventually.  
Next we have Chapter 14, The Sacking of Thosdagokshe already half done, so it's going on, reviews inspire me, writing those kinds of big battles is a pain, and I would expect to see less of them for a chapter or two, we have other sides of being an adventurer to explore for a bit.

Well thanks,

Till next time.

Shoutout to Addictorator, Inheritance1990 (OUR BETA WOOOO), dammyd (The Eye will be very relevant in future chapters, and you will have to wait and see.), FusedBump (glad you are enjoying it.), ANightmaresDreamscape (glad you are having fun, PM me for some more fun stuff you will love)

Thank you to all my reviewers, remember, authors are people who only survive off of reviews, so Review, Follow and Favorite.


	14. The Sacking of Thosdagokshe (13,534)

**Chapter 14 : The Sacking of Thosdagokshe**

Hadrian and Albus stood near the forward command as the firing order was given.

They stood in awe as the Dwarves' and the Drow siege weapons prepared to fire upon the massive city gates. It was, to say the least, overwhelming.

Hadrian and Albus stood at position A3 according to Jra'kal, one of the officers of the Lightning Company. The gathered men watched with bated breath as the rather horrifying Dwarven weapon charged itself, before unleashing a beam of roaring red at the gate.

This was no laser because to call it such would be like comparing a laser to dragon fire. True enough, but not in any way that mattered. Albus and Hadrian watched as the beam slammed into the gate only to suddenly refract. The massive beam moving to fast to stop as it cut a swath into the ground in front of the gates, the wound in the ground glowing an angry red as it slowly cooled.

"Wards," Rath'gar smiled. Goblins were, as a race, famous for their wards, famous for their ability to break wards. It was perhaps a unique opportunity to study the wards of a race of intellectual cannibals, one that the two wizards were sure Rath'gar would be taking. "From the looks of it a reflection ward. I wonder if it will stop projectiles, because everything the goblins have on the subject, and that is one combination that we lack. Wards of reflection can be energy-based or physical, but having both on the same level of warding is impossible."

"What do you mean? I have seen many places that have both wards. You have to break each one separately." Hadrian said curious as to what the goblin prince was inferring.

"It seems like that but the truth is one of the wards is a hairsbreadth below the other," Gesturing Rathgar dropped a dagger onto the table in front of the two wizards. "Watch the wards," Rath'gar's finger scratched a line of magic, the rune being written on the air, as the ward of energy repelling was carved into existence around the dagger.

Another few minutes, Rath'gar cast a weak ward of projectile repelling, the two wards were fine until they touched, and then they both came crashing down, the only reason the backlash wasn't more pronounced was because of the sheer miniscule nature of the two wards. They were like upside-down cereal bowls.

"That is peculiar," Hadrian murmured, his magic sight causing his eyes to glow in the telltale way they did when they someone used mage sight to view magic.

"How do you suspect they will manage to tear down the wards?" Albus asked Rath'gar curiously.

"I really have no idea, I suspect that they will attempt to batter them which could take a Hrim," Rath'gar said seriously.

"Months?!" Hadian and Albus blurted out, their collective thoughts slipping from each of their mouths. A Hrim, they had learned, was 60 or so cycles, about 2 months using Midgardian vernacular.

"Quite," Rath'gar said, lips curling as the bombardment of the wards began.

"Albus..." Hadrian's voice had a hint of tension, their earlier conversation on the need for expediency immediately coming to bear.

Albus more than understood his charge's worries. "I think we need to help them take down the wards to avoid wasting more time than we already have, do you have any ideas, Hadrian? Rath'gar?"

Both his young prodigy and the goblin prince paused in thought. "What about a ward piercer?" Hadrian murmured.

Rath'gar shook his head. "Too weak, even without seeing those wards I can tell they would shrug off any ward piercer that didn't involve a blood sacrifice." Albus frowned, he was never one to condone human/sentient-being sacrifice to do magic.

"Rath'gar is it possible to get a read on the wards without approaching them?"

"It will be very difficult, such detection magic has its limits."

"What about a wild magic spell?" Hadrian asked.

Albus' head snapped up at the question. "Hadrian-," Hadrian had little desire to let the older, more cautious, man disrupt his train of thought, however.

"Now hold on Albus, think about it, why try and to break through when we can just fundamentally alter. Wards are notoriously precise magic, throwing manifested chaos at it will most certainly disturb it. An anti-magic spell will have little effect." Throughout his speech, Hadrian's face grew progressively brighter with excitement.

Albus' voice was firm. "Hadrian! You would be better off summoning fiendfyre than you would be wild magic. It is matched with a one way trip through the veil on Midgard for a reason. Your astounding knowledge of the Anathema aside, there are reasons certain things are not to be done. There are far worse things than death."

"What other ideas do you have then, Albus?" Hadrian's voice betrayed his frustration at the man shooting down his idea.

"Why a specialty of mine of course, Alchemy," Albus said with a mocking tone. Hadrian's eyes locked eyes with Albus, a grin lighting up his face at the older man's response. Hadrian had always wanted to see what an Alchemy master like Albus could do if he was so inclined.

* * *

Albus stood in front of a siege machine and stared at his handiwork critically, the runes he had carved on each of the massive boulders looked like simple scratches, though in truth they were much more. He had done the Trio by hand rather than with magic for a purpose he was about to test. The Gemini charm and other such permanent conjuration magics all relied on the lack of magic on the object copied to work. So, if you had a stone carved with uncharged runes, you could copy it, but if the runes were charged it became impossible.

The elderly man had spent an entire cycle working amongst the ear-shattering bangs of the siege weapons' various projectiles exploding against the wards. A not insignificant time investment, seeing as it was now the fourth cycle since the siege had begun.

He had mapped out the runic configuration to do what he wanted. It took time, but with the addition of another two runemasters, the work went far faster than Albus expected. Soon enough they had completed the prototype.

It was perhaps the scariest thing that he had ever created. The boulder was covered in runes that would turn the entire boulder from physical matter to energy on contact with a ward, and then back into physical matter in a timed alchemical reaction. The energy generated would actually be charged by the contact with the wards and would activate the velocity boost and turn what would be already a fast-moving projectile into a bullet the size of a truck.

_'Of course,'_ Albus thought bemused,_ 'it will also explode on contact._' That was, unsurprisingly, Rath'gar's contribution.

Looking at the masterpiece weapon they had created, Hadrian and him shared a pensive look as they tried to come up with the best way to do this. Meanwhile, the soldiers watched them with a bit too much interest, having learned to pay attention to whatever Hadrian, or Albus, got up to.

"What about putting a duplicate scheme on the loading chamber?" Albus thought for a moment before slowly nodding his head in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing."

Albus and Hadrian wasted no more time and got to work.

Inscribed with their artifacts, the curling runes they painstakingly etched into the rock would transform the bolder into a firing mechanism by using the generated energy from hurling the bolder towards the walls as well as the explosion of the last boulder.

'Should we tell the other commanders?' Asked Hadrian curiously through their bond.

_'What if they say no?'_ Rath'gar's thoughts interjected, giving the two men pause.

_'That would be unfortunate, and they have already proven incapable of not being slighted by our swift victories,'_ Albus mused.

'_What if we only tell them after we launch the first one?' _Hadrian said. A wicked grin forming as he projected his thoughts.

_'They receive the runner at the same time the first bomb goes off,_' Albus hummed in agreement, his own eyes twinkling with an old man's mischief.

Turning to one of the soldiers surrounding them, Albus spoke again, this time it was out loud. "Captain Jgritt, I need you to do me a favor. Hadrian, Rath'gar and I have prepared a special projectile if you will, and we would like to inform the forward command of it, I suspect the effect will be memorable, please run and tell them to ready themselves for us." Jgritt clapped her hand onto her breastplate decorated with medals of valor, and with a small bow, took off running to tell the central command of Albus' message.

"Perhaps, before we fire, since we have some time, we should erect some wards of our own to protect our new weapon?" Albus said quietly. The other two nodded their heads. Rath'gar pulling out a white perfect cube from one of his enchanted pouches: a masterwork wardstone.

With a shared feral grin, the three of them began the rather lengthy process of erecting defensive wards around their location.

* * *

The Spiderling stood in the rear command tent as the siege was taking place, the Illithid's own anti-siege weapons capable of fearsome damage. The horrid monsters used a different sort of projectile: living monstrosities that were fired into the camp to wreak havoc on the frontlines.

It was the fourth cycle of the siege and things were progressing well. She suspected that the siege could be done within forty cycles if things continued apace. Twirling a ceremonial dagger between her nimble fingers, she mused to herself, 'not that things ever go according to plan in war. I wond—" *Kathooom*

The Queen started upwards from her relaxed position in her throne-like chair, the dagger clattering to the floor as the echoing thunder of an explosion rang in her ears.

She was already half out of her chair when one of her more trusted generals burst through the flaps of the tent. "My Queen, y-you must see what is h-happening." An already present feeling of alarm magnified at her general's reaction.

Standing quickly, the queen ran after him, freezing when she saw the burning hole in the massive wall. Her eyes widened as she saw projectiles flickering as they passed through the wards, slamming into the wall, again and again, exploding with bursts of brilliant light. The resulting shockwaves sent warm wind brushing past her cheeks as the smell of smoke filled the air.

The Spiderling took it all in with a rare case of unguarded shock. 'What was happening?' The thought echoed numbly through her mind.

Whirling to face the Dwarven King, Thrain, she made to ask him the meaning of all this. Only to freeze in surprise as she took in his current state. He was standing stock-still, his bearded jaw hanging open, eyes darting across the battlefield and his pulse quickened.

It wasn't the dwarves then. Who else could be resp—the crikken wizards, why had they not shared their plan with her! Scrambling to get a handle of the situation, the Queen turned back to her general.

"Send a large force to reinforce sector A3 immediately, tell the other men to continue firin-" the queen was interrupted as another projectile slammed into the massive city wall to the city proper. Exploding, the sonic-boom cut off the rest of what she was saying, sending what only someone like the Spiderling knew to be hundreds of illithids flying through the air, dead before they even hit the ground.

"Tell the siege engines to continue firing. There is no reason to stop, soon enough there will be nothing for those projectile wards to defend. It will prevent them from simply trying to destroy the projectile before it reaches the city. We can begin moving to take the city far sooner than expected due to this fortuitous occasion. Neith smiles upon us from the Great Beyond."

Her orders given, she turned, mithril armor glinting in the flickering firelight as she walked urgently into the tent, she had preparations to make.

* * *

Hadrian and Albus watched their siege weapon make short work of the wall, massive sections of it exploding outwards, the shrapnel alone killing hundreds of the beasts. The lightning company was standing at attention in front of their war-machine, eyes wide watching the destruction.

Hadrian's own eyes widened as he saw a massive boulder flying towards him and the siege weapon. With a fury, he brandished his wand, and in one smooth flourish, he sent the massive bolder back to the sender. He was vaguely reminded of a time he saw a muggle tennis match, only in this case it was an eight-ton bolder being volleyed back and not a fist-sized tennis ball. Even from this distance, Hadrian could see the explosion as the rock impacted the barrier the wards provided.

He was distracted from admiring his shot by a sudden blast of a horn. It was not the deep bass of a dwarven horn or one of the higher-pitched elven instruments; one of their enemies, then.

The gates of the monstrous city let out a groan, opening only a fraction to their eyes. Yet, with the distance between them and the wall, it could have been a gap of a dozen meters.

Regardless, Illithid poured out like ants from a distributed hive, it was a horrifying sight to see so many enemy soldiers pouring from the gates; their naturally nightmarish visages didn't help matters either.

Yet, as he watched, initially frustrated, his eyebrows rose as he realized that there was something he could do.

Hadrian, seeing his chance, wasted no time. In muggle warfare moving a siege weapon was a rather lengthy process, which is why it was only used to strike at stationary targets. Luckily, he was no muggle.

Marshaling his magic, Hadrian reached out to the siege weapon, wrapping it in arcane power. With a flex of power, he used his magic to change the angle of the great machine. Taking careful aim, Hadrian lined up the machine with the target he had in mind.

A moment passed, and then another, finally, once he sensed it was the perfect time, he allowed the machine to fire, this time directly at the gate itself.

It was a bit of an awkward shot, but it was without a doubt a wise one. From the gate, a line of Illithids, riding a series of fel-like tentacled horses, continued to spill from the gate.

Unfortunately for them, they didn't make it far as the projectile Hadrian launched slammed into them, crushing bodies as it rolled forward, crashing with a mighty thrum into the open gate.

The gates were sundered.

It had been a miscalculation for them to open the gates in the first place, one likely born of the gate was at least twelve meters thick, and covered in runes that gave any sane being that looked at them a headache. It was a gate that was near impenetrable. The thing is, these wards are only active when the gate is shut, when opened they lower to allow their own troops exit and entree, and at that moment where Illithids marched from the gates, there was a gap in their armor. One Hadrian took advantage with a ruthlessness that would make a goblin proud.

It seemed their enemies' mistake was their success.

There was a brief moment of stunned silence. It didn't last.

From somewhere in the dim, smoke-filled battlefield, a horn sounded, it was high-pitched and echoing: a Drow war-horn. The call was followed by another, then another. Seemingly in answer, a deep throaty horn sounded, one that could only be crafted by the rugged hands of the dwarves. Soon the entire battlefield resonated with the sound of their calls.

With one masterstroke it was no longer a battle of attrition, but a race to the gate. It was a race Hadrian had no intention of letting him or his men lose.

Canceling the spell that kept the siege weapon firing, Hadrian only had to glance at Albus and Rathgar for them to understand. Albus flicked his wand, the weapon they had created bursting into flames amidst the shouts by their soldiers. It would not do to leave something so powerful lying around. They trusted neither the dwarves nor the drow to not use this to disrupt their tenuous peace.

With that business done, Hadrian turned to his mentor. "Albus, is there a way we can carry our troops to the gate, but also protect them from arrows?"

Albus gave the question serious thought, stroking his now auburn speckled grey beard. "Perhaps having our infantry lock shields to create a shield wall would be beneficial. We can at least try and avoid heavy losses as we approach the wall." Albus turned his serious eyes across the expanse of ground between them and the gates. "Even with the gate sundered, I still think the best method will be for us to use our original plan: use our ladders and try to take the top of the wall. The vast majority of their ground force will be positioned to defend the gap, and history has repeatedly shown us that defending a pass is the surest way for the larger attacking force to fail."

Albus paused, thinking about the logistics of such a move. "A troop transport for four to five is one thing, but with nearly 550 people it would be far more energy and work than would be beneficial, there are times, Hadrian, where the best solution is, in fact, the one without magic."

Hadrian accepted his mentor's wisdom and continued seriously. "I suppose we will march to the walls then." Turning to the men, he raised his voice and thrust his divine weapon forwards. "Let's go and show the mindflayers that we are the monsters of their nightmares!"

With a mighty cheer from the soldiers, it didn't take long for Albus, Hadrian, Rath'gar, and a recently returned, Taurelilómëa to gather the Lightning Company, shrink the ladders, and move out, towards the burning walls.

* * *

The Lighting Company's approach was far easier than that of the other attacking drow and dwarves. They had two sorcerers, and as any of the soldiers would likely tell you, Magic was might.

Albus was hyper-focused on the action in front of him. Watching Hadrian casually batting aside a slew of arrows, Albus was satisfied that no aerial attacks would reach them. Instead, his sharp eyes watched for any sign of attack from the ground.

Albus felt the wards pass over them, surprised to find they were surprisingly sparse. The two main ones were only the two that they had detected: Anti-projectile and Anti-spell wards. Thankfully, neither of the sorcerers or the force they were leading forward were projectile or spell to be stopped by the still strong wards.

As they passed the wards it felt like walking through a field of static energy; the pair of wizards could feel the screen of arcane energy scan then ignore them. It was without a doubt one of the most peculiar experiences they had experienced, they were used to the feeling of Hogwarts' wards, and the power they had. Albus was also used to the benevolence; this magic was not benevolent.

His eyes were drawn downward as he noticed with alarm that the ground was churning: illithid tadpoles.

Not pausing from his rather expedient march, Albus flicked his wand forward in an intricate pattern. The illithid tadpoles lying in wait popped like bubbles to a curious child's finger as he increased the relative gravity around them to fifty times what they were used to.

Soon enough, the wall loomed over them, its black spiked surface shimmering angrily. From behind the shield wall, Hadrian unshrank the ladders while he kept watch for any probing strikes. They only had three, far too few to allow them to actually push past whatever resistance they would meet when they would only be attacking in forces of three at a time.

There was another issue, the wall was massive, a far further climb than any of them wanted to do.

"How do you feel about walking up the side of the wall face instead of taking the ladder?" Hadrian asked his companions even as he deflected a stream of boiling water.

"Do it, Hadrian," Albus interrupted, one glance at the towering wall and he knew the ladders would fail before they even tried. Looking at the wall critically, Albus reached out to his connection with Hadrian, '_What if we cast an illusion so they couldn't see us climbing the wall, and only saw us climbing the ladder?'_

_'Let's do it,'_ Hadrian thought back..

_'3.. 2.. 1.. CAST!'_ Both spells burst from their wands at the same time, Hadrian's spell altering reality so that "down" was the face of the wall. At the same time, an illusion sprung into being of the 600 person force trying (and failing) to climb the ladders to reach the greedily waiting force on top of the wall. It would hopefully distract from their attempted subterfuge.

Hadrian jumped and space twisted as he fell onto the wall. Only taking a moment to marvel at the wonders of magic, he began walking up the side of the wall. Gravity, for him, turned on its side. It was as impossible for him to "fall" down as it would be someone to fall into the sky. Seeing Hadrian's move, Albus followed, Rath'gar and Taurelilómëa bringing up the rear. Now used to the miracles created by the arcane pair, the army tentatively joined at Albus and Hadrian's behest.

The elves and dwarves took a hesitant step, then two. Slowly they broke into a brisk jog. Then, they charged.

The wall was long, but Albus felt the vigour of relative youth drive him forward. His once (admittedly quite magnificent) silver beard was now sprinkled with the auburn hair lost since his younger now looked like a man of forty years. A very fit man of forty; who had, since he had entered Svartalfheimr, been forced into more physical activity then he likely had done in entire decades of his life.

He had seen the changes, but it was only while running up the side of the wall that he truly appreciated what they meant.

He didn't need to push magic into his limbs, though he did so anyway. Feeling the static charge of his magic empowering him, he ran forward.

It took some time, but since they were not climbing, merely running, it was much faster and less strenuous than any of them expected. Before long they had reached the top, their 600 soldiers lying in wait, hidden by the massive spikes and gothic stylings of the wall. Hadrian had the strange mental image of bats clinging to the walls of a cave.

Yet, even as they stood suspended below them, the illithids continuously fired on the illusory forms that were "climbing the ladders".

Hadrian crouched like a bird of prey on a branch, before leaping forwards, jumping over the lip of the ramparts. Gravity made the rapid shift back to normal, causing him to fall in an impossible manner. Even with magic boosting his reflexes, he couldn't stop the small stumble when his feet landed on the cold dark floor of the wall's ramparts.

Luckily, the illithids were so surprised by his sudden appearance none of them had the composure to take advantage.

In less than half a second, Hadrian was sure-footed once more, Eldingr in his hands as he silently began picking off as many of the illithid as he could. Albus crouched as well, prepared to copy his eager young protegee's movement; a waved fist telling the soldiers lying in wait that they should charge as well.

Leaping forward, Albus Dumbledore nearly stumbled as gravity returned to its normal direction. But he had seen Hadrian's landing and knew to prepare himself. A good thing too as with Hadrian already in the midst of the monsters, he lacked the element of surprise. A fact that was reinforced when three arrows were sent his way

Casually batting the projectiles aside, Albus released his magic from his usually vise-like hold. It was not something he was used to doing, it was frowned upon in the wizarding world, such things highlighted the disparity between magic users. Such overwhelming power and potency made others who lacked the same uncomfortable and highlighted the sham that magical equality. Though it didn't change the value of the wizard, some were just more powerful than others.

There was no mistaking Dumbledore's power when he released it, it was only now that Albus was beginning to see what Hadrian was saying about such senseless restrictions. They were, as his young apprentice had repeatedly said, so very limiting.

His magic was like a spring, launching forward as the kinetic energy that had compressed it lifted. It burst from him in thick flowing streams, and for the first time in a long time, Albus felt everything. His magic stretched out nearly 50 feet in every direction, everything slowed down and then moved.

Idly, Albus wondered what image he presented. The magic was so thick around him it was visible as a cloying haze, but it remained intangible, like mist on a foggy night in the Scottish moors. His eyes burned with power, no longer twinkling, they shined. His beard flapped in a nonexistent wind as pure magic displaced the air around him. His enemies gawked in fear, his allies in awe.

'Show off,' Hadrian grumbled across their shared connection. Albus' lips twitching at the feelings projected towards him.

Carefully directing tendrils of magic with his will, Albus took control of the very stone that made up the walls. Using his decades of practice, the transfiguration master did what he did best, he used his environment to his advantage. He shaped the stone into snake-like vines to bind and constrict any illithids they could reach. Only these vines grew sharp thorn-like barbs when they wrapped around the many illithid archers that lined the parapets of the wall.

Hadrian meanwhile was not content to be forgotten. He had run forward, a torrent of lightning erupting from his wand as he fried an entire row of defenders before banishing their twitching bodies into the slowly organizing reinforcements.

Where Albus was a deadly rapier wielded with precision and grace, Hadrian's magic was a mighty lance containing all the power of a warhorse's deadly charge. In the end, it mattered little, both would kill you.

A quick scan of his magic told Albus that two-thirds of the Lightning company had joined them now, their elven archers firing unforgivingly on anything that moved.

Hadrian took a quick scan of the battlefield. The benefit of their location was that the ground forces would be hard-pressed to aid the wall defenders, the distance was too great, and they lacked transportation. The wall was no easy thing to scale, none of the beings in Svartalheimr had the ability to do what Albus and Hadrian had done, so their enemies were woefully unprepared to have an entire company of able and fresh soldiers in their ranks.

As he dispatched a particularly ugly illithid, Albus took the small amount of breathing room he had to look over the edge of the wall. Albus saw what must have easily been 15,000 drow and dwarven soldiers assaulting the destroyed gate.

Jabbing his wand forward and twisting harshly, Albus took control of the wall itself, sending a wave-like ripple through the left side of the ramparts. The scrambling host of illithid infantry were flung off of the wall, most certainly dead from the fall.

But he did not have time to confirm his thoughts as his magic screamed at him in warning. Albus felt the presence of what could only be an Ulitharid attempting to warp into the battleground the rampart become,

Knowing that this was not an enemy he could underestimate, Albus did not allow the ulitharid a second to get its bearings. Splaying his left hand forward, he clenched his fist tight and tugged with his magic.

The surrounding floor bloomed, curling open like a flower, the ulitharid landing in the middle of it only to have the petals of the stone flower curl inwards. The stone flower seemed to move backwards in time, its petals curling inwards as they crushed the ulitharid before it even had a second to process what was happening. It reminded Albus of a magical plant he had seen once in the depths of the Brazillian Amazon.

Only a few seconds passed before the large stone flower was a small bud that sank back into the earthware with which it had sprung. Leaving no hint of the ulitharid's grizzly fate.

The illithid on this section of the wall were thinner now. It was clear the Lightning company was winning the battle.

Albus' whipped his wand across his body, a ribbon cutter spooling out of its end slicing through seven illithid archers who had just stepped off of an elevator like structure.

Pausing as no one immediately tried to kill him, Albus peered around carefully before giving a satisfied nod, striding over to where Hadrian had just killed the last Illithid in the area.

"What should we do now?" One of the drow captains asked Hadrian, shouting over the din of distant battle.

"Form up!" Hadrian's voice reached everyone in their vicinity with ease, his magic aiding him the way Albus himself was familiar.

Albus and Hadrian stood at the front of their assembled soldiers, assessing their strategic position. They had lost 8 soldiers in the assault, far fewer than should have been possible, still, it required some arrangement.

There was some bickering among the company's captains around what to do next, but Hadrian's commanding voice cut through the clamour. "We will attack the defending Illithid force from their rear, routing them, and allowing us to take the gate," Hadrian stated. Albus nodded his agreement, feeling pride surge through him as his apprentice took command of the situation like he was born for it.

Thinking for a moment, Hadrian gazed out into the battlefield below, eager to make a difference. "What about transfiguring platforms into the wall, to allow the archers vantage?" Hadrian suggested quietly.

"I will take care of it." Albus said simply. Hadrian nodded before turning to the soldiers.

"Lightning Company!" Hadrian's voice again boomed forward powerfully. "Let us use our advantage and strike our enemy from behind! Archers follow your captains, they know where to position themselves. Fire at will. Infantry with me!"

Hadrian turned and ran onto the massive lift, which he noted had had it's rope cut by the illithid. With a gesture it was whole, and began lowering the company down.

Albus gestured about half way down the massive wall, a burst of invisible magic exploding from his wand as a large ledge erupting from the side of the wall. The elven archers had little difficulty using their natural agility to get onto it. Hadrian gave his newest companion a serious nod as Taurelilómëa joined them. She was more effective as an archer, plus, it would give those that remained behind a clear leader.

The process was repeated till all of the archers were placed along the wall. Hadrian and Albus neared the ground, as the first arrow flew by Albus' face, curving around him as his magic denied the headshot its prize.

* * *

"Forward!" Hadrian's yell was met by a roar as the 80 or so men that he had left with him, the rest either on the wall or having died roaring in response as Hadrian brandished Eldingr, a roar of lightning signaling their attack as lightning erupted from his wanded and off hands, a steady stream of lightning erupting from his hands as he led the charge.

Hadrian noted with passing amusement that, somehow, the loudest shout was still Rath'gar.

It was a hectic charge, Hadrian's magic and mind working overtime as his magic and mind struggled to process the sheer amount of information he was receiving. It was prioritized betweens threats against him, threats against Albus, and threats against those in his vicinity.

Hadrian found himself, deflecting many nearly fatal blows away from his soldiers. Regardless of his own lack of knowledge of their personal lives, he knew they were sentient and conscious individuals. With families and feelings, needless acceptance of their deaths when it was preventable was unacceptable.

The large force of illithids mostly wielded spears or swords with shields, they had been successfully holding off the attacking force. That was, until they were forced to turn half of their men to defend from behind. The shock crippled morale, and every Illithid who was cut down by Hadrian, these seemingly too weak to even try psionic attacks, pushed them one step closer to taking a foothold in the city.

Soon enough, between the archers shooting anything that looked Cephalopodic, and Hadrian, Albus, Rath'gar and their men slaughtered all of the defenders, they soon came face to face with the Dwarven and Drow Lieutenants who looked at them in irritation.

Ignoring them, Hadrian turned around and blinked. What to do next? Rath'gar, consumed by bloodfury, turned back towards the city and simply ran deeper into it, roaring all the way.

Hadrian blinked. Alrighty then, that decided that.

"Attack!"

* * *

It had been several days since they first began their assault on Thosdagokshe, and it was going well. They had managed to take the lower city. A majority of the illithids simply cornered into sections of the city. Illithids by themselves were rarely an issue, it was only when they had an Elderbrain with... aspirations appeared that they became an issue. So Hadrian did his part to kill as few of the "civilian" Brainstealers as he could.

The army and majority of the illithid force was walled into the inner city, a place where the ulitharid and the Elderbrain lived, it was also the location of the Temple of the many-tentacled-one. The enemy was entrenched though, and Hadrian and Albus took a several hour break in the shadows of the mighty wall. The Lightning company had just cut a huge time and personal cost out of the war, and neither side had been prepared for it it seems. As a result, the attack on the city proper was more a melee than anything.

Hadrian and Albus had had a meeting with the Queen and the generals of the two respective armies, the two races had grumbled, but they were unable to argue with the 'efficiency' his strategy had used. Hadrian and Albus had single-handedly ended the siege with both their siege machine and their attack.

"So what is the plan of attack? Surely not another battle of attrition?" Hadrian said with a hint of worry.

"No we will be sending a two-pronged attack, the main force will engage the army, pushing forward until we breach the City of Elders, but the minute we do, Illithid contingencies will be triggered, meaning that the protocol to remove the Elder Brain to a safe location will be enacted. This must not happen!" The Dwarf King's hand slammed onto the tabletop, his thick beard trembling as his jaw clenched in anger.

"The plan is to send an elite squad to engage the Elder Brain at the same time that the outer defenses are breached so that the Elder brain will be unable to flee, if you kill the Elder Brain, then the rest of the illithid foot soldiers will panic, it will allow us to finish this quickly." The Queen spoke up from her place at the head of the table.

_'Cutting the head off the snake as it were,_' thought Hadrian, staring intently at the map.

"Where is the Elder Brain?" Albus asked cautiously, tugging at the end of his beard.

"It is holed up in the Tengkorak." Said the Orzûm grimly.

"Forgive me my lack of Illithid cultural knowledge, what is that?" Albus said wryly.

"That is the most guarded and sacred place for the Illithid. The Temple of the Many Tentacled One, and its surrounding area." the Spiderling responded grimly. "It is the most heavily guarded and well-defended place in this entire city. It is also the place where the most powerful and favored Ulitharid reside. Ones far more powerful than the ones you have yet seen." The Queen's tone was grim. This was not going to be easy.

"Fuck." Hadrian murmured under his breath. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the Many-Tentacled-God

"Indeed. Fuck." Albus quietly agreed.

Hadrian and Albus were suddenly very glad they had not really had to do anything with the siege spells that they had readied, you never know when you might need those kinds of spells, especially when venturing into the temple of a very real, very angry tentacle God.

* * *

Hadrian waited for Albus, his blue robes glowed with spiraling runes. Taurelilómëa and Rath'gar had joined him a few minutes ago, so he had begun casting protective sigils over them.

Albus and he had been working on an alternative to having to scribe the protective runes on their companions every single time that they wanted to protect them from something, some sort of defensive shortcut. Though while Rath'gar wasn't against them tattooing the runes into his skin, both Hadrian and Albus were uncomfortable with such a measure, all it would take is one slice in the right location to sever the entire scheme. It was a rather large issue.

The two had instead worked very hard at designing anklets of their own that would be unobtrusive and rather subtle that would be able to contain all the runic scripts. Taurelilómëa was by far the more risky of the two companions, Otho now occupied with his own divine mandate of leading the Dwarves.

Hadrian didn't really have strong feelings about the Orzûm's departure from their group, not having had the extended meaningful interaction to truly get to know the private dwarf. That was not to say he didn't have feelings of friendship with his once companion. Him and Albus had thought it prudent to give him one of the anklets as well, his own magic sufficient enough to charge the runic sigils inscribed on their gift.

Soon enough, Albus walked forward, Mondstral glowing ethereally as he approached the group.

"Are you ready Hadrian?" Albus asked quietly, behind him the two dozen elite soldiers that would be accompanying him stood.

"We are ready," Hadrian said simply. Both he and Albus had taken the time to rest and meditate, knowing that this was unlikely to be as easy as past skirmishes.

This was like knowingly walking into the lair of Ilsensagron again, they would not make the mistakes they had made before.

Every member of the group wore a circlet made of silver, inscribed with ancient runes of power; a gift from the dwarves. It would give them a small degree of added protection from the psychic attacks they were likely to be mired with.

A horn sounded, rippling through the air like the roar of a mighty beast as the army roared back in seeming answer. A good distance away, the assault on the upper city began.

That was their cue. Turning, they walked down the streets and into the gutter that would take them under the inner city wall.

* * *

Albus moved with a grace and efficiency he had not had in years. His magic sang through his body, eager to be released.

The game here was speed and efficiency. The main attack would hopefully draw most of the footsoldiers and ulitharid away from their other positions.

Still, he suspected he should have been far less surprised when they came across the first group of illithid. The words of the Orzûm echoing in their head.

"One mind flayer sees ye, and they all see. One mind. One nasty, suspicious mind."

The group of 28 elite moved undetected, their movements silenced, cloaked in disillusionment magic. Seeing the illithid ahead, two of the drow assassins signaled that they would take point, and moved to assassinate them.

Neither Albus nor Hadrian even saw them as suddenly the group of illithid they had been watching just dropped dead.

The drow re-appeared swirling smokey shadow the only sign of their arrival. They moved forward, their progress slow, but still nonetheless intentioned. Missing even one Illithid would be disastrous.

Albus and Hadrian were positioned in the front of the group, Taurelilómëa, and Rath'gar in the back. Albus and Hadrian had made their way forward, cautiously, their magic extended only five feet outwards in fear of alerting anyone to their presence. Both crossed the boundary of the road that would take them around the side of the Tengkorak, eight of their accompanying men joining them until suddenly they felt wards spring up, solid ones.

Hadrian and Albus' eyes widened. These were not illithid wards, these were wizarding wards. Powerful ones. Anti-apparition, prison wards, and a myriad of others. Something was not trying to keep them out, but rather in.

It had also separated them from the rest of their force, Hadrian made a gesture for the ones not trapped with them to go around and keep moving forward without them. Their eyes protested, but they were too disciplined to argue here.

Turning back to look at the street, they noticed four figures step out of the shadows, Ulitharid all of them. Hadrian realized it first as his eyes recognized what they held in each of their pink-skinned hands, wands.

These were not just Ulitharid, they were once Humans. Wizards, he realized in horror. These were not the Ulitharid that they had fought in the Dhemdarum Surprise, these were something far older, and far more powerful.

_'Albus they are wizards!'_ Hadrian urgently sent over their blood connection, he had no desire to let the Ulitharid in on their secret, or open his mind to the mindflayers.

_/Welcome Wizards./_ They spoke together. Albus and Hadrian felt something they had not felt in a long time, panic.

_/It has been an age since we last met one of our Midgardian kin/_ This time it seemed like their voices came from behind them.

_/Please, won't you tell us everything we have missed?/_ This time it came from the left side.

One of the eight soldiers that had made it into the street with them didn't hesitate, he fired an arrow right at the center Ulitharid's head.

The arrow changed as it flew, the newly transfigured crow landing on its master's outstretched hand. The Ulitharid had not even twitched. It was elegantly done, and immediately, Hadrian and Albus knew they were fighting at least one transfiguration master. But who knew how many masteries a being as old as the Ulitharid in front of them, who had been turned in the days where Midgardian's all had magic, in the days where the realms were not disconnected, had.

_/Now, now./_ The voice of the Ulitharid echoed, each of the five speaking synchronously.

/_We wanted to talk to the wizards, not you insects./_ Said the right one.

_/We have had our fill of dwarves and drow./_ The second one to the left continued.

_/We yearn for the nectar of our motherland./_ The two flanking what clearly appeared to be the leader hissed into their minds.

_/You will not deny us._/ The center one said with menace, brandishing a wand that looked more like a tiny spinal column than any wood they had ever seen.

With a simple jab, the rocks they were standing on exploded, twisting and turning into thorny tentacles, wrapping their way around their prey, the eight elite soldiers screaming as their sigils flared angrily as they tried their best to defend the soldiers from instant death.

As soon as the vines had caught hold of them though, the magic started to dissolve as Albus thrust his own magic forward. It had been a while since he had had to counterspell any transfiguration.

The eight elite soldiers fell to the floor, the dwarves standing up almost immediately, their magic resistance protecting them more than the elves from the burning energy the sigils had given off. They were all shaken.

With a gesture, Hadrian triggered their emergency portkey, they had little idea if it would work, but it was certain death for them if the eight elite remained here.

_/I do believe your quarrel is with us./_ Albus' telepathic voice cuts through the air swiftly. He had learned from the last time he had dared to engage a mindflayer in the mind arts, and the Illithid appeared suitably taken aback.

_/It appears so./_ All five spoke as one. Then, as was becoming common, all five bowed as one, wands held in front of their face, the traditional position for a Wizard's duel.

They struck a menacing pose, their inhuman faces, silky and flowing robes and bare feet reminding the older man of one of the last men that he had fought to the death, though Lord Voldemort was perhaps more predictable in his abilities than their current adversaries.

Hadrian and Albus both bowed, opening their connections as fully as it could go, and then they attacked.

Their movements were fluid, and neither bothered with a customary stunner. Albus immediately transfigured the air behind them into spikes that he sent hurtling towards them from behind. Even as Hadrian unleashed a torrent of lightning at their foe's faces. Five against two was hardly fair and neither of them thought for a second that this was to be a traditional duel.

The Illithid moved with a swiftness that belied their frail forms. The air itself becoming a shield, they had not however managed to defend on both planes as fast as they had needed to, the transfigured ground had risen up to block the iron spikes that had flown at their exposed backs a mere second too late, and one of the Illithid collapsed, an iron spike erupting from his squidlike head. Screaming telepathically even as the ancient Ulitharid died.

The four shrieked in outrage at the loss of one of their kin, their brother for who knows how long. Their rage was palpable, and suddenly it was Hadrian and Albus who found themselves on the defensive. The world bent around them, and then with a snap, reality fell away like pieces of a broken mirror.

The ground they were on was now floating in a void, swirling purple obscuring reality from them. It was both a true illusion and one that the Illithid had coupled with one in their minds.

_'A legilimency trap.'_ Thought the pair of English wizards simultaneously.

The swirling purple smoke was disorienting, but even as his eyes and mind were fooled, his magic was not. Spinning, Albus wand drew a line through the air even as that same line appeared in front of one of the other illithid, bisecting it at the waist. The Illithid were masters of tricks and illusions, using them to ensnare the senses and trick the mind, but Illithids, powerful as they might be, were still driven by the need to know, the need to devour. This made them predictable.

The Illusion flickered as another one of the Ulitharid was slain by Albus. Hadrian's eyes narrowed, he was letting the old man do all of the work. Parrying four paralysis curses, Hadrian grinned. The Ulitharid would lose because they sought to capture, whereas Albus and he fought to kill.

Allowing one of the Paralysis curses to hit him, Hadrian counter cursed it, even as he pretended to freeze. The Illithid appeared out of the shadows, maw wide open as it went for the kill, only for Hadrian to blow its head off with a well-placed lightning bolt. These beasts weren't the only one who had a trick or two up their sleeves.

Again the illusion flickered. Hadrian had taken another one of the parasites out, Albus' fire whip lashed out, removing the wand arm of the ulitharid nearest to him, even as he wandlessly caught a blood-freezing curse heading towards him.

Holding the former wizard's spell in his hand, he brought it up to his mouth and whispered a spell he learned in his younger days of travel. At the same time, he used his wand to transfigure a wall between him and the other two Ulitharid. Banishing it towards them with another precise flick.

Eyes shining with smugness and power, Albus crushed his hand, small lines of what appeared to be pink light flitting from his hand even as the leftmost ulitharid collapsed, its own magic bound so long as Albus held his spell. This left the leader of the ex-human ulitharid alone with him and Hadrian, and it became more clear by the second that the ulitharid, while powerful and masterful in his transfiguration, was no match for their combined might.

It would seem a thousand years as an ulitharid was still not enough to measure up the two once in a century prodigies.

Still, both could admit, the final Ulitharid was an artist, as the parasite danced around their barrage of spells, transfiguring the illusion into reality so that as the last of his companions fell, the disorienting spinning continued. Blasting spells erupted from all sides, walls became dangerous knives, the very floor becoming a weapon of doom in the hands of the transfiguration master.

Hadrian launched a bolt of lightning at the ex-wizard, only to have it deflected into the street with a flourish, a black scorch the only evidence of the bolt's brilliant but short existence. The ulitharid's deflection came at a cost however, he was not fighting one wizard, but two, so it was Albus' disarming charm that caught him full in the chest, the ulitharid's wand landing on the ground with a clatter.

Immediately the Ulitharid's hands rose in surrender as his transfigurations failed. Albus and Hadrian hesitated.

/_I Cesbelax, once Arthurias di Romano do surrender, you have defeated me, I am one of the last vestiges of an age gone by, surely you know that you have won. Allow me and my creed to depart, we will never be seen in these lands again, we want nothing but to study our magic in peace. It was foolish of us to engage you as we did, once fearsome, it seems our skills have atrophied to the point of shame. Please spare us./_

/_How do we know you won't curse us the very moment you are free?/_ Albus inquired with a hard edge in his tone.

_/I only wish for the freedom of me and my creed, and am willing to swear an oath on my magic to that affect./_ The illithid's tone seemed genuine, but they were crafty buggers, Albus knew better than to take it at its word.

_/Swear your loyalty, swear it on your name./_

/_I Cesbelax, once Arthurias di Romano, do swear for my creed, on my magic and name, that I mean my words, and will stay far away from this place to the slayer of Ilsensagron/_

_/I slayer of Ilsensagron do accept your oath./_ Albus responds. The pulse of magic all that was needed to show them the oath had taken hold. The wards falling around them.

_/Begone from here mindflayer./_ Albus said, menacingly, his left hand releasing the magic of the other ulitharid.

Cesbelax bowed. _/I will not forget the debt I owe you for your mercy./_ The Ulitharid said, before grabbing the cloak of the other ulitharid and disappearing.

* * *

'_Why did you let them go, Albus?_' Hadrian thought, more than a little irritated.

_'Do you know who that being was? Arthurias di Romano?_' Albus asked over their connection, they were both rushing to catch up with the rest of their group.

'_No.'_ Hadrian's cautious response told Albus he was genuinely listening.

'_Arthurias di Romano is the man credited as the first transfiguration master._' Hadrian blinked.

_'He seemed, how should I say this... weak.'_

_'I suspect it has more to do with the process of becoming an illithid than anything else. Transfiguration requires a firm identity, a firm concept of self, so that as you bend reality, you do not lose yourself. Being part of a collective, even as free as he as an ulitharid might have been, would have drastically reduced his ability.'_ Albus responded.

'_Ah, that does make sense, but why spare him, you are not normally so prone to sentiment, Albus.'_ Hadrian didn't particularly care that the older man had, but he was curious at the reasoning.

'_I am also not normally complicit in genocide._' Albus' voice, even across their connection, had a coldness to it. _'Make no mistake Hadrian, that is functionally what we are doing, no matter how foul the beings we are destroying, we are aiding a genocide. If for no other reason then he is a relic of a bygone time, I could not bring myself to needlessly kill a being that has seen more in his lifetime than I can dream of. It will be a sad day for us all when we don't think twice about the total destruction of any race, be it good or bad.'_

Albus went quiet after that, it seemed all he had to say on the matter, and he had certainly given Hadrian a lot to think about. Albus, Hadrian had been reminded, was a good man. Yet, Hadrian couldn't stop the question that bubbled up inside of him: Could a good man survive in the world they were running around in?

* * *

Albus knew they were nearing Tengkorak because the number of Ulitharid who had begun trying to ambush them was increasing. Honestly, their tactic of killing them in the split second that they were spotted had proved barbarically effective. Albus was not sure he was completely comfortable with the sheer amount of knowledge they were removing from the universe.

Moving down a side street, Albus noticed that the houses were getting grander and grander. Since it was just the two of them, they had made much faster and quieter time moving through the upper city, able to avoid massive groups of illithid altogether.

Albus kept his magic extended at 20 feet, giving him enough time to react to nearly anything that came his way.

Albus' magic prickled, his precognitive abilities triggering as he bent backward in a display of athleticism he would have found impossible even a month ago. Next to him Hadrian did the same, though with even more grace—it seemed there were still some advantages to being young.

Ethereal tentacles erupted from the wall, smashing overhead in the position they had previously occupied.

Hadrian's eyes flickered with lightning, even as the younger man blocked the next four rapid strikes with a wall of pure magical might. Yet the wall did little to blunt the voice that would have shattered their minds before Gorzorth as it ripped through their consciousness.

/_dO yOu ThiNk mE BliNd!/_ It was unmistakably the elder brain.

_/YoU daRE medDLe In OuR AffAirs? COme ThEN, NoNe ShAll stOp yOu, seE tHe meAningless oF rEsistance/_ The leader of the illithid spoke with a hundred voices.

The Elder Brain's voice was layered, confident, regal, soothing, pleading, enraged, and scared. It was deep, thin, raspy, and smooth. It sent a shiver of fear down Hadrian and Albus' spines. It was unnatural, it was the sensation of a thousand ants crawling over you, of the feeling of eyes looking at you in the pitch black, it was the monster in the closet, it was the deep fear of what swam under you in black unknowable waters. It was all of these and more, multiplied a thousandfold

Even to people who had seen as much as Hadrian and Albus had, its simple presence in their mind, and the sensation that it carried instilled a deep unrootable fear—it was the fear of the Arcane. The unknown, the forgotten, the very fear that had driven the earliest of humans to make fire and banish the night, and with it the suspicion of what lay in the shadows.

Both men almost screamed as the deeply unnatural took hold of them. Their minds strained as the elder brain forced an image into their minds, Rath'gar and Taurelilómëa, suspended, surrounded by several red garbed cultists all of whom seemed hunched over. In it, a pale and royally garbed Ulitharid turned and stared right at them.

Albus and Hadrian felt horror dawn as they realized the Ulitharid were devouring the elite soldiers that had remained with Taurelilómëa and Rath'gar. As one the illithid lifted their heads, revealing the drooling faces of the soldiers. One of the Ulitharid, dressed far more regularly than the rest stepped forward,

"Surely you know that no mental protections can save your mind from a feasting Illithid. We know your plan, and we know your identity Albus and Hadrian of Midgard, wizards, nothing but conjurers of cheap tricks. I am waiting, take too long and I might just start snacking early." They both noticed that the Ulitharid in front of them had two rings around the tentacle-like appendages that hung like a beard from its' face. Suddenly, their minds were their own again.

_'Have you been able to make contact with Lilómëa and Rath'gar? There is a chance this is a ruse, one that is meant to delay us, The ulitharid are masters of illusion.'_ Albus struggled to make a connection with Hadrian through the haze of the vision and felt Hadrian's agreement. Hadrian cast his magic outwards, tracking the huge number of spells that both Rath'gar and Taurelilómëa had on them.

Hadrian saw the blue glow hum around the two figures. It was them.

'_It's not a lie,'_ Albus gritted his teeth, if the elder brain escaped it would be disastrous.

'_We will need to be quick,'_ Albus sent to Hadrian

'_Come now Albus, don't you know, there are few things faster than lightning.'_

Albus took heart in his young protogee's bravado. '_Let's go then. Light the way, Hadrian.'_

* * *

Hadrian and Albus encountered no resistance, the path seemingly cleared for the two as they hastily made their way towards the Tengkorak where their companions were strung up by the Ulitharid and their Illithid servants.

The two men stepped into the courtyard, immediately taking stock of the area. At least 30 ulitharid surrounded the courtyard.

Hadrian walked forward, steady in his stride, Albus by his side, and approached the raised dais which displayed his friend and the person who he was supposed to court.

Hardian locked eyes with Rath'gar, the goblin's eyes burned red. The swords were laying on a table a few feet away. Freeing him would be their first prerogative.

/_Welcome, wizards, the Great-one has given me permission to do its will, and to that extent, I welcome you, you have been a far greater challenge than the Dwarves and the Drow for our people, never did we expect any would get this far, discover and attack our city, for that you would have been honored with the blessing of one of our tadpoles. You are worthy of joining us./ T_he head Ulithard droned on, Hadrian stepped forward causing the ulitharid to pause and turn towards him.

_/Something to say, shu'ug?/_

"I would know with whom I am speaking," Hadrian said quietly, too calm for the deadly situation.

_/I am the Ulitharid Cephalossk, Creedmaster of the Venerators, one of the noble minds. High-priest to Ilsensine. You have committed a grave offence by coming here; the emerald-one will take great satisfaction in slowly breaking your minds,/_ Cephalossk said, his voice echoing through the minds of everyone who was in the courtyard.

_'We need to go and get them,'_ Hadrian said urgently, a very real worry for Taurelilómëa spreading throughout him—something that he didn't have time to think about in the moment.

Cephalossk's face-tentacles squirmed in what seemed to be enjoyment.

/_You reek of fear, I do love a brain drunk on fear!/_ Cephalossk was proving himself to be a sadist, not that either man expected any less from the direct servants of Ilsensine.

/_Release them._/ Albus' voice rang through the minds of all present, sending a ripple through those assembled.

_/Ah the tadpole squeaks,_/ Cephalossk sneered, a most peculiar look on its cephalopod-like face. _/You are nothing but a blip in the vast consciousness that is Ilsensine! A blip that has brought him and his goals no small amount of irritation and strife, so now you shall watch me slay your companions and my brothers feast on their minds_/ Cephalossk gestured, and two Ulitharid seemed to slink over to the two captives.

Hadrian and Albus locked eyes and moved forward, attempting to engage them. Both men were frozen in shock when they found themselves frozen in place, what appeared to be a paralysis runic trap they foolishly stepped on halting their movements for the ten or so seconds it would take the two to overpower the rune.

Two cloaked ulitharid moved towards their suspended companions, and, tentacles rippling, they went for the kill, both of their heads draping over the two a perverse and wriggling privacy screen.

Albus and Hadrian were only stuck in place, suspended, they were far from helpless. Silently taking the cue that Albus would handle their freedom, Hadrian took to his task.

Reaching out with his magic, he felt for all of the power he could control around him. The various protections layered on the bodies of the Dwarves and Drow that had followed them on this mission were still there, faded, but far from gone. The two hostages glowed like twin suns with the sheer number of magic he had performed on them.

With a flicker of concentration, Hadrian felt the mind shielding glyphs he had put on the two hostages before they had departed from their camp. Immediately, he felt them respond to his will. Though his body was still frozen, he waited till the faces of the Ulitharid were nearly upon his terrified and enraged companions, then he overcharged the sigil.

Both of the Ulitharid's heads exploded at the same time, and Albus had them free half a moment later. Without words shared between them they attacked.

In a second the anticipation filled silence was replaced by chaos. Albus and Hadrian released their full power. Sinking deep into their magic. Both attacked with a rage neither had expected to possess.

Like spears in the hands of an ancient hero, Albus' hands were nothing but streaks in the air, the only warning of death any of the Ulitharid that Albus targeted had.

Spinning his wand in his hand, Albus began a spell chain. Spell chains were something that 'good' wizards learned. But in the hands of Albus Dumbledore, this spell chain was destruction incarnate, first an explosion spell, the last movement of the charm the beginning of the mass animation spell that would animate the debris into shrapnel, the end of the animation spell the beginning of a slashing charm, into a severing charm, into a blood boiling charm, back into a linear incendiary spell, into an anti-air spell, into a heat spell which when hitting the space that had been removed of air, created a suction and then an explosion effect, so on and so forth, there was no reprieve.

Hadrian's whole body crackled with energy, tendrils of lightning crackling off him and striking enemies without any input from him. Simultaneously, his wand moved, cutting through the air like a whip. He was casting a locking spell on the area, there would be no escape for these feinds, no mercy was to be given here.

While his wand went through the motions of the spell, Hadrian wandlessly created a needle and banished it with half of his attention. The projectile sped across the room, pricking every illithid in its path before returning in a blur.

Scrunching his nose at his next action, his tongue darted out, gently licking the needle tip and swallowing. He felt a flicker as suddenly he had the identities of the eight ulitharid jammed into his head, a nasty side effect of the consumption of Illithid blood. Without warning, the eight litharid that Hadrian had pricked began screaming, their blood converting to a similar acid as that of his stomach, a rather cruel and normally useless feat of blood magic.

Hadrian's spell complete, he felt a thrum of satisfaction as he noted a new emotion flicking through the air, fear. Turning towards the abandoned captive, Hadrian's wand flashed and Eldingr cut through the ropes that bound them.

Rathgar wasted no time, leaping into the air, his hands grasping the gag that had been crammed into his mouth and ripping it off of him. He reached his hand out, eyes shining madly in the dim light, and from the belt of one of the Ulitharid flew the Red Dawn. The name given to the bloodmetal infused divine sword—a name driven into his mind by the weapon itself. He could tell that it was his, and that his sword had changed.

"Uk grat'ma gaar berserka'gh!" Rathgar's berserker cry flew from his snarling lips. The goblin leapt through the air, his hand meeting the hilt of his sword, the scabbard of binding that the ulitharid had placed it into getting sliced in half as the divine sword returned to its true master.

Coming out of his roll, Rathgar immediately sliced an unsuspecting Ulitharid in half, his sword glowing an angry red as the monster's tainted blood sanctified his blade. Spinning with a snarl, Rath'gar buried his sword to the hilt in the face of another Ulitharid, who in the chaos, had no warning before it joined the great consciousness.

Taurelilómëa for her part wove hex after hex, freezing the Ulitharid in place before they could block or defend from Hadrian or Rath'gar's attack. She was far from helpless, the group had been captured through the use of divine magic, something Cephalossk had proved able to wield.

It was a Divine sleeping spell that had knocked them all out, completely ignoring their defenses, because it wasn't magic or physical force, but something completely different, reality distortion. It reeked of meddling by Ilsensine, and Taurelilómëa was very unamused at the divinity's interference.

Spinning around, she impaled an Ulitharid with two shadowy legs that burst from behind the monstrous cultist, noting with satisfaction the abject terror the Ulitharid were feeling as the four companions regained the upper hand.

As the chaos unfolded, Albus was battling Cepholossk. His spells impacting the Ulitharid to no effect.

The venerable wizard flung a mix of spells at the surprised Ulitharid, but was more than a little confused at the sheer lack of damage it was doing to the priest of the tentacled one. The physical attacks bent out of the way, and the magical attacks proving useless.

/_Fool, I am the Creedmaster, the favored of the Venerator Creed, your puny magics have no power when my lord is with me! How can I, first among Ulitharid fail against the likes of you, mortal? I am the bearers of the tendril rings of Ilsensine, you and your magic can have no effect on me!/_

Albus switched to raw energy, glad that the enemy seemed to be willing to monologue away his advantages. Suddenly, Albus felt rather than saw Hadrian gathering a mass of magic, a mass of magic that he unleashed directly at the mouthy brainstealer. Hadrian's lightning bolt slammed into the surprised creedmaster driving him off his feet.

The hectic battle was slowing now as the Creedmaster stood, his form smoking and a wave of deadly anger apparent in his eyes, fully directed at Hadrian. The tendril rings glowed on his two tentacles like appendages. He seemed mostly unharmed.

_/Do you know what these are wizards?/_ The Ulitharid's voice seemed to gain a level of hostility that it somehow previously lacked. /These are a sign of my lord's grace upon me. The Tendril Rings of Ilsensine, vessels of his power, and his favor. Feel the power of the consumer of worlds, Ilsensine!/

The fanatacal glint in his eye only grew as he changed the two rings against each other. Then he did it again, a ripple of eldritch power began to grow from the creedmaster's cultist paraphernalia. Divine power began to suffuse the area, the few surviving ulitharids perking up even as Hadrian and Albus' eyes widened as they felt the strain on their mental protections.

Raw untamed madness was beginning to penetrate the clearing. Illithid and Ulitharid alike who had previously sulked in the shadows as their companions were being slaughtered, gathered now around the Creedmaster, driven by an unnatural fervour.

Hadrian and Albus did not hesitate. Spells of all kinds flew from their wands. The very environment bending to their frantic casting of two magical prodigies with one goal: seperate the Ulitharid from the Tendril Rings of Ilsensine.

Albus's transfigured blades warped into feathers as the spells entered the ever-expanding bubble of Illsensine's power. Hadrian's bolt of lightning turning into a simple blue-bell fire spell, the very laws of existence obedient only to the unquestionable will of Ilsensine.

Both wizards began backpedaling as fast as they were able, stumbling away from the ever-increasing diameter of the sphere of madness that had been summoned into Svartalfheim by the Creedmaster's use of the divine artifact.

With a frantic flick of his hands, Hadrian summoned their two companions to their sides.

_'Hadrian! What is the plan?'_ Albus' voice showed the appropriate amount of concern as they were now meters away from being in Ilsensines sphere of influence.

_'I don't know Albus.'_ Hadrian distractedly responded, running through hundreds of options in his mind. One after another being discarded.

"What are you planning?" Rath'gar's uncharacteristically scared voice broke them from their thoughts.

The dome was nearly ten feet from them, and still steadily expanding. If it touched them they were worse than dead.

Illlithid crawled from the shadows, hundreds of them, feeling the call of their god's soothing song. They looked at the orb of Ilsensine's power with transparent reverence, and then they charged forward eager to be with him.

_'Albus?'_ Albus did not respond as he processed that he only had a few moments at most before the ever-expanding insidious green bubble of Ilsensine's power reached them from the front, and the equally deadly swarm of illithid reached them from all sides. So Albus took a page from Hadrian's book. He made a rash decision.

"_Igne Solis_!" The spell seemed to sputter, as Albus poured more power into it, and with an explosive tear, the tip of his wand ripped open, a ripple of rainbow color rippling out from his wand tip even as a laser-like beam of Sunfire sliced forward. The resulting shockwave blasted Hadrian, Rath'gar and Taurelilómëa's backward. Their many defenses all that saved them from blindness, deafness, and immolation as they were exposed to the Midgardian' sun's fire.

Albus was shocked. Never had this spell been so explosive, it was near uncontrollable. The pulsing angry beam not responding to his will as it had in the forbidden forest. He felt the drain on his magic continue even as he tried helplessly to stem the flow of magic. His magic, usually a mighty lake, was draining fast.

The tear in reality grew, and as it did, so did the torrent of fire pouring from the dimensional hole he had foolishly made.

His genius mind made the connection on where he had gone wrong quickly, but it was too late. The spell was made to bridge the earth and the sun. Svartalfheimr was not on Earth, not anymore. Albus thought he heard the faint screams of the illithid as the laser slammed into the bubble of Illsensines' power with the explosive force of a star.

The fire did not just vanish, however. In what Albus was sure surprised the God and the mindflayers alike, it continued onward, unimpeded by the reality controlling powers of the iillithid's God.

Albus was sure that any and all that were looking upon the courtyard would find themselves blinded as for the first time in several ages, sunlight shone forth in Svartalfheim. It was wrong.

Albus struggled to end the spell, his Hallows shrieking with horror at the suddenly uncontrollable nature of the spell. This was not like when he had used it on Midgard. There was no way for him to seal the rip he realized, the spell no longer obeyed him. No this was different, terrifying, it threatened to cut Svartalfheim in half, the sunfire burned so hot a single pin thick beam had nearly leveled a portion of the forbidden forest, this was a torrent. It was uncontrollable.

With a cry of pain, Albus tried to end the spell, but the damage was already done, nothing seemed to close the tear, in reality, he had summoned in his Hadrian-like foolishness.

As desperation clutched at Albus, a wave of cold crept up his body and had anyone been looking they would have seen Mondstral shimmer as an ethereal transparent cloak of purple covered it. Albus' hands shifted, moving on their own accord, as his wand and the resurrection stone glowing a fiery purple. With an effort that felt like it would put Atlas holding the world to shame, Albus swiped his hands to the side, sealing the rift, the torrent of star-fire ending immediately, cut from its source.

The sudden absence of the sun's scorching light, something neither Albus, Rath'gar, Hadrian had felt in far longer than they had realized was overwhelming. The light seemed paltry in comparison, the darkness, deeper. It was psychological, though none found solace in the knowledge.

As his eyes adjusted, Albus saw what remained of his enemy. Nothing but the charred feet remained of nearly a dozen elite Ulitharid. Ulitharid who did not make it into the safety of their tentacled lord. Many of the rest screeched, their faces and skin burned bare by the power of the sun's light. The shield protecting them barely hinting at its previous power, flickering dimly.

The buildings around them, had shadows, shadows of the illithid that had gathered when they felt the call of their god. Illithid that were now nothing more than scorched ash on the wall. Burned to but a shadow of a memory.

Cephalossk collapsed, tentacles erupting from the ground, pulling him down into the earth; a heavy price is needed to call on the tentacled-god apparently.

The Ulitharid fled and none felt the need to stop them. There would be no hiding their presence. Albus sagged.

"Albus," Hadrian's voice was grim, chiding, all of the things that in retrospect, he probably leveled at Hadrian after one of his stunts. "That was _insane_!" Albus blinked, shock plastered across his face at Hadrian's wide grin.

"I'm _glad_ you are finally learning to take some risks," Hadrian smirked, patting the shocked man on his well-muscled back as he strode forward, the path to the Temple to Ilsensine clear.

* * *

A/N: Hello!

I would like to start by introducing you to a new beta that we have for the Arcanist. They volunteered, and have been amazing! Meet Byronic101, our second beta. Thanks to Inheritence1990 for being awesome as well! It is thanks to them that the story's quality will be getting better. At some point I am going to go back and polish the early chapters, while personally they turned out more or less the way that I wanted, there is a degree of dissatisfaction that I have noted among my dear reviewers, which I understand.

I am sorry this is several weeks late. I have decided on a one per month kind of chapter release. With bonus chapters for exceptionally prolific reviewing periods. Now, you all certainly deserve one, which is why you will be getting a double chapter in June. 14-15 were one long chapter, but honestly, after some personal things, and the fact that the world seems to be going nuts in a new way, I haven't had any time for writing. So I am truly sorry about the wait. I am not abandoning, I will see this through. Don't worry.

Congratulations to all of us, we are now at :  
Reviews: 280  
Views: 93,224  
Favorites:890  
Follows: 1,111

Unbelievable! Thank you so much for the support.

Just to kind of generally go through some thoughts I have about the reviews I am getting. I love them, "flames" and all, I have noticed that people don't like that the Potters have treated Hadrian so poorly. Here is the thing, and the only thing that I will say on the matter. The unspeakable magic's rules are different, why did Hadrian's power manifest as lightning? Did you think there would be no consequence when he made elvish magic his own? That it would not make him a bit of an anomaly, that there would be a cost for doing so that Hadrian was not even aware of? That the only adult to seemingly notice how brilliant Hadrian was, was Albus?

I like to pride myself on fairly well thought out plots... do the math yourself, there are lots of questions that need answering, and I will surely be answering them, but I am not just jumping on a I-hate-the-Potters-because-I-am-angry-with-my-childhood train. I had a nice one, this is purely storytelling.

Now onto another thing... Lilómëa. Yes that is what we will be calling her shorthand. Yes you will still see the long hand, No I don't expect you to know how to spell it. Here is the thing, I love how much you guys have responded to her and Rath'gar, to OC's of mine, that I just pulled out of my rear-end if I am honest. But they have grown to be my favorite NPC's... I hope in the coming chapters you guys will grow to know and love them as much as I am starting to.

Now some questions, because you guys seem to read these and respond favorably.

Do you like the Illithid/ depiction of the Ulitharid? They are pretty much taken directly from Forgotten Realms.

Have you seen the Baldur's Gate III trailer? It features them, pretty much exactly how I imagined said brain munchers too. Ceromorphisis is equally scary in the trailer too... check it out, I'd share a link but... FFN. nough said.

Do you think that the Ulitharid Wizards were fun?

How did you like Albus' battle with Arthurias di Romano? It was the first time we have seen a Wizarding duel in a while, what do you think Cesbelax will end up doing?

Also a side note: Ulitharid are capable of supporting a hivemind by themselves (see the Dhemdarum surprise), and one day becoming (if they want) an elder brain themselves. So no reason why sparing Arthurias di Romano/Cesbelax wont impact the future in big ways... it's not an independence day situation... blowing up the mothership won't kill all the aliens everywhere.

What do you think of Cephalossk? I was going to make an OC, but then thought why not connect this to a fanbase I have used rather liberally?

I would have loved more of a chance to delve into Illithid society, but honestly I couldn't warrant another chapter on it, then I got 12k words into this one and was like, hmmmph another it is... I originally thought that the entire Svartalheimr arc was going to be 2 chapters. lol. 70k+ words later...

Who is excited about the Elder Brain? Any predictions for what will happen?

Anyway thanks for reading! Expect to hear from me soon-ish.

-Mr. Omega573


	15. Into the Tengkorak (13,377)

**15\. Into the Tengkorak**

The temple was perhaps the most startling feats of architecture that Hadrian or Albus had ever seen. It was contradictory; perfect to the eye and mind, while simultaneously straining their occlumency in ways they had yet to experience.

It was like looking at one of those muggle optical illusions, the ones that changed depending on the perspective you were viewing it from. Look at it one way and it showed an old man, wrinkles sagging. Look at it from the other side though, and a youthful, exuberant young man peered back.

But if they were being honest, even that was a poor explanation of what the two powerhouse wizards perceived. There was really no way for either of them to describe the temple. It was an oxymoron. Dark but light, deafening but silent, beautiful but hideous. The closest they could get to describing it was ordered madness; like some higher being had distilled the essence of madness into stone and then stacked one on top of the other to form the building before them.

Nothing about the temple made any sense.

The building had seemed to be imposing from a distance, and yet, the closer they got to it the less sense they could make of it. It was not made of any material that they had seen in Svartalfheimr, more akin to concrete than anything else, yet staircases seemed to bend each and every way, there were no laws of gravity, nor of sense, here.

One thing that Hadrian and Albus were sure of was that the laws of existence that governed the building were decided by something that did not think like a human, dwarf, drow or goblin. It was alien. The enemy within would certainly have the home-field advantage. Traps, ambushes, swarms of enemies, all possible risks once they stepped foot inside.

Yet surprisingly, they faced no opposition as they neared the main entrance to the temple.

They drew closer and closer, and it wasn't until they reached the temple gate that their first obstacle appeared. Their halt was not due to powerful wards, or even some powerful foe, but rather because baring their path into the Tengkorak lay something so grotesque, none of them could fathom what they were seeing.

In front of them was a wall. A wall with faces. Sixteen faces to be precise. Four Rath'gars, four Lilómëas, four Albuses, and four Hadrians.

Hadrian's eyebrows arched, and it was only after a moment passed before he mastered himself; this was clearly the doorway, but as far as he could see there was no clue provided on how to get it open.

After a moment's thought, Hadrian threw his arms wide, casting a sigil of true sight. The ring showing him and him alone the laws and nature of what lay in front of him.

_'It is a test,'_ Hadrian said drolly through their group's magical connection.

One of the Hadrian's on the wall twitched. Hadrian focused on its face, though there was no change.

_'Surely you jest,'_ Rath'gar replied back, sarcasm oozing from his words. This time one of Rath'gar's faces twitched.

_'What did you do?'_ Hadrian asked urgently? _'Do it again!'_ Two twitches this time, a look of concentration.

'_I don't know,'_ Rath'gar replied. The faces twitched again, confusion.

'_It seems to be something related to our communication,'_ Albus mused. His faces twitching in response to the shared thought, taking on a pensive look.

From her place an arms-length back from Hadrian, Taurelilómëa frowned, her hand outstretched at the door as she tried to ascertain something for herself.

_'It is telepathic magic. It is a test... a test that only an ulitharid level psychic could normally pass,'_ There was a tinge of frustration in her voice, an emotion mirrored by the four faces on the gate, each frowning in synch. Her own eyes widened as whatever magic she was using to discover what the magic behind the faces wanted was revealed._ 'The only way for the gate to work, is for one ulitharid to dominate the other 12 faces, and make them like their own, through psychic powers, sadly, this is impossible for all but a truely old Ulitharid.'_

A moment of silence fell over the group as they digested the knowledge.

It was Hadrian that broke the comtemplative silence, his voice ringing in their minds. '_I suspect the assumption would be that this would be a struggle for dominance, and none of the illithid would dream of simply cooperating. Luckily, we have no such qualms,'_ Hadrian turned to look at Albus expectantly. 'Well, what are you waiting for?'

As if mocking the group, a silly look flitted across Hadrian's four stone faces.

Albus, for his part, showed little cheer at the prospect of using legilimency against his friends and companions. A show of power and dominance may be needed to satisfy the gate, but he would take no pleasure from the act.

'_You have to dominate our minds don't you?'_ Hadrian asked Albus through their own connection. Psychic domination was nothing to laugh at. The older man just nodded once.

Hadrian relayed this to their two companions, to which Taurelilómëa and Rath'gar looked at each other and nodded. They would allow it if it let them into the Tengkorak to successfully complete their mission.

In response, Albus nodded his acceptance and recognition of their sacrifice. To be dominated through Legilimency was no small trouble, even if it was made easier through their willingness.

When it was time to act, Albus didn't give them a warning, it would be easier that way. He didn't even say the words aloud. Instead splitting his mind into three, piercing forward simultaneously into ordinarily formidable mental fortresses of his companions.

Rath'gar's constructed mental defenses were solid like good goblin stonework. A finely cut gem, artistically crafted, as strong and sharp as any goblin weapon. It was the first to get dominated by the rolling waves of Albus' power.

The goblin's image on the stone gate morphed, becoming four more Albuses as his consciousness was pushed aside by the wizened mage.

Next to fall was Hadrian, Hadrian put up more of a struggle, as his mental defenses were far more impressive, aided as they were from his elvish-heritage. This heritage only added to an already prodigious talent for mind magics, again amplified by the countless sigils he had defending his most sacred sanctuary. Protections that Albus did not have to even fight against as he used their blood connection and the trust that existed between them to simply sneak through the metaphorical back door.

And though there was a part of Albus that wished to linger and bask in awe at the feeling of the living lightning that was Hadrian's mind, he nonetheless pushed forward.

Four more Albuses adorned the gate.

The hardest mind to control by far was Taurelilómëa, not because her shields were strong—though they certainly were—but because the elven minds was so foreign, so alien, that it threatened to consume him the second he breached the first protection. Then he passed the second, third, and fourth walls, each one threatening to twist his mind with their alien patterns, and this is while she was willing.

In the end, he was able to contort the elven maiden's mind to his wishes, but only because she chose not to put up even the most basic resistance.

Not that any of his dominated companions could see, but only Albus' face remained on the gate. As one, each of the sixteen Albuses' mouths opened, the insides dark except for the glowing mark of Ilsensine. Then, with the mighty grind of stone on stone, the gate opened, and his three glassy-eyed companions joined Albus as he stepped through the gate.

The way slammed shut behind them, echoing with a fatalistic finality.

As soon as he stepped through the door, Albus released his companions. His own mind relaxing as the strain of controlling his three companions lifted; it reminded him oddly of the relief that coursed through sore muscles after extreme exertion. .

In truth it would have been a simple task for them to break the mental control, he was used to using his legilimency as a tool for subtle understanding; his technique was like a subtle lock pick, focused on stealth to give him the upper hand. This use of legilimency in comparison was the wide powerful slash of a broadsword, a method, ironically enough considering his choice of weapon these days, well outside his own purview.

The recently mind-controlled group regained control of their own minds with a shudder, their unnatural stillness being substituted for disturbed expressions and uncomfortable body language.

So disturbed was Hadrian, that he forwent his usual mental communication for physical speech. "I hope you don't mind if I say I never want to experience something like that again Albus, trusted companion or not." Hadrian's eyes closed in unwanted remembrance. "It was like I was a passenger in my own skin, trapped, aware, but unable to act."

Albus grimaced, an unpleasant taste lingering on his tongue. "I certainly agree. That was unpleasant for me as well."

It was an unsettled group that moved deeper into the Tengkorak. They knew without a doubt that they were expected. The words "One mind flayer sees ye, and they all see. One mind. One nasty, suspicious mind," never more true then as they approached the sanctum sanctorum of the Elder Brain itself.

Hadrian and Albus felt the psychic powers of this place. Their own psychic defenses were weakened by the place it seemed, they doubted the same was true for the illithid they were sure to encounter.

The hall they were traversing seemed to end, a wall veering in front of them, blocking them from moving forward. Hadrian didn't even lift his wand before Albus' hand clamped down on his arm.

With a sharp gesture, Albus stopped Hadrian in his tracks. The older man scrutinised the area carefully before nodding, seemingly coming to a conclusion.

_'This is no wall. This place seems to obey only the law of the mind, and in the mind, things like gravity are not law, they are instead only constructs established by the body.' Albus' voice was like a whisper in the wind, flitting through their minds softly._

With a step Albus did the impossible, as he stepped onto the wall and began walking up it, erect along the vertical wall, seemingly under Hadrian's gravity spell. Conjuring a rock, Albus dropped it. To everyone's shock it fell upwards, as if caught in a strong updraft.

Hadrian shared a glance with the disgruntled Rath'gar, the Goblin Prince's face saying what he thought of the sheer absence of universal physics that this place seemingly represented.

Regardless of their disgruntlement, the group was quick to follow Albus, walking along the flat walkway and encountering no Illithid as they tread deeper into the heart of their territory.

The area around them twisted and turned, if they took their eyes off the path in front of them to look around, the curling madness of the space they walked would have driven them mad.

Nothing was what it seemed, and forward was quickly becoming the only option available.

Albus greatly suspected this was another delaying tactic of the Elder Brain. An endless tunnel in which they had no way to know if they were moving or making progress of any kind.

'_I think we are being made fools of Hadrian.'_ Albus directed the thought solely towards the other wizard.

_'I think I agree with you, this seems to be an illusion, and a powerful one at that.'_ Hadrian flicked Eldingr, and it blurred, morphing into a long twisted piece of metal. It was, he suspected, the only exception to his memoriastum that he would be allowed; the raw form of Eldingr, a lightning bolt captured in silvery metal. It was Eldingr's staff form, something that he had never had much of a purpose in calling forth until now.

**/Arcana occulta, manifesta teipsum!/ **Hadrian's staff came down on the ground with a literal thunderclap. A ripple of electric magic pulsed outward and the entire world seemed to shake and quiver as the group rippled as if pressed upon by a giant invisible hand..

_**/Arcana occulta, manifesta teipsum!/**_ Again a ripple, followed by another rumble of primordial thunder. The space itself was fighting his spell; the madness of the temple conflicting with the raw power of his incantation.

He continued forward, his magic pulsing like an oncoming avalanche. Every time he began his chant again, the ripple of arcane energies would pulse out from him, passing harmlessly through everything and everyone, but clearly doing something to the twisted reality they occupied.

**_/Arcane occulta, manifesta teipsum!/_** It was on the seventh chant that something finally gave. Hadrian's eyes revealed his satisfaction as with a final shuddering groan, whatever false reality they were being presented with shattered, revealing a door.

Though, calling it simply a 'door' was like calling the ICW simply a 'group'. True in some regards, but missing the true meaning. This was a door the same way a Basilisk was a snake, or a Sphinx was a cat.

Standing at what he thought might be 100 feet in height, the door was made of a fleshy pink substance. Substance that on closer inspection seemed to be just that, a type of organic matter. It was to Hadrian and Albus' horror, what appeared to be an unknowable number of humanoid brains fused together into a door. Each hemisphere of the larger brain-like doors made up of thousands of smaller brains.

"It seems we have arrived," Rath'gar's rough voice broke their horror-filled silence at the monstrosity in front of them.

Terror and pain permeated the air, and a nagging doubt-filled Albus' mind. Reaching out with his telepathic abilities he felt to see if the door was a magical construct, or if it was what he hoped it wasn't.

Reaching out a tendril of his legilimency, Albus picked up that these minds were somehow still alive, some fel magic holding them in place. Searching deeper, he touched one mind and closed his mind in quite despair.

It was a child, a drow he suspected from the similarities to Taurelilómëa's mind, but a child nonetheless. He could feel her innocence, the lack of understanding of why this was happening to her; the pain, the horror, all unguarded.

The mind screamed at Albus in eternal horror as her mind was made raw, begging for release from the torturous prison she was stuck in.

This was all shared as easily as the mind had once shared her toys with her little sister.

A sob tore violently from his chest as his occlumency shields, at their maximum strength, failed to suppress the sheer horror of knowing what these gates were. Proof of the evil that the drow and the dwarves had warned him of, an evil that was far greater than even the dragon that they had faced. This was something far worse.

Albus was a teacher, his greatest joy was seeing the minds of youth change and evolve into adults he could be proud of. He cherished the innocence of youth, for while it was something he had long ago lost, it was something he strove for in every minute he lived. Yet this sight shook something deep within him, it killed a part of him he thought long dead, an innocence he had managed to protect even as his hair turned gray and the wrinkles on his face deepened.

Children. These bastards had done this to children. Innocent. Precious. CHILDREN.

Something deep inside Albus snapped, a gateway or a damn holding back power he had always kept a firm lid thing that had stopped him from ever truly using the power of The Hallows fully, the powerful self-control that had kept him from molding the wizarding world into the image he had always secretly envisioned.

The control that he had imposed on himself since the fateful day he lost his sister snapped. The precise control he was vaunted for, the walls he had built over a lifetime, came crashing down.

With a strangled roar of primal fury, Albus' eyes flickered purple, his aura exploding outwards like a purple and gold firestorm. Hadrian, Lilómëa, and Rath'gar's presence suddenly became a nonentity next to the swirling maelstrom that was Albus Dumbledore.

He was in no way shape or form subtle, no, this was not someone who wanted to hide, the sheer power he radiated screamed their presence out to those that could see the ebbs and flows of magic.

The magical titan advanced forward, fury painted across his features, but, hidden under the anger, quiet despair had taken root.

Slamming the Deathstick into the doors, a pulse of purple magic exploded from the ancient wand's tip into the mass of pink flesh making up the door.

A shuddering rattle was heard by all four members of the group; not physically, but magically. Each suffering soul was released from their miserable existence as the pulse of death magic ran over them. And though tears poured from the wizened wizards despondent eyes, he forced himself to take heart in the last combined whisper of a thousand tortured minds.

_'Thank you.'_

The thought came to him in dwarvish, elvish, and in other languages, he didn't know. Some came in words, others only capable of sending a slight feeling, some not even capable of that, leaving behind only a faint impression. Still, irrelevant of how the message was sent, he knew they had wanted it.

The door itself turned from the fleshy pink that it had been upon their arrival to the lifeless grey of dead flesh.

It was a testament to the anger of Albus Dumbledore's rage that he didn't even bother using the Deathstick, but rather simply thrust his hand towards the gate.

The door exploded inwards. Fleshy projectiles falling from the sky, tons and tons of grey matter raining inward as Albus Dumbledore entered the Tengkorak more like an avenging angel than the mortal he once was.

Storming forward, Albus' white cloak billowed in the broiling power of his aura, flapping in the wind created from the sheer magical might he was putting forth. Albus spun his staff, a purple blade materializing at the wider side of the spike-like staff, slicing clean though the two Ulitharid that had been waiting past the threshold of the monstrous gates.

The ethereal blade sliced through their souls with a macabrely cheerfully humm. Clenching his other hand, a sputter of purple flame flickered around his and just in time for Albus to thrust his fist into an approaching enemy's chest armor. The soulfire ignited the Ulitharid's soul, pale lavender flame erupting from the ulitharid eyes and mouth as its soul combusted at Albus' rage.

Hadrian wasted no time in charging after his master. Sinking into his magic, Eldingr became a beautiful arc of death.

From the way his hands flashed through shape after shape, one would never imagine that single-handed sigilic casting was actually an area where Hadrian struggled. His true talent in the art only truly came to the fore when wandlessly casting with two-handed sigilic magic.

Two fingers swiped to the side, beheading the Ulitharid that attempted to jump onto him from behind even as with a roar, Eldingr spat out a bolt of lightning. The now familiar smell of ozone and charred flesh assaulting Hadrian as he sought to catch up with Albus.

By the time Rath'gar, Lilómëa, and Hadrian managed to catch up with Albus, he had carved his way nearly to the bank of the perfectly circular pond at the very back of the chamber. Seeing their older companion continue forward with a single-mindedness that alarmed them more than they cared to admit, Hadrian attempted to reach out to Albus's mind.

'_Albus_?' Hadrian waited a second, taking a moment to bisect a brain with legs that had just tried to jump onto him. The elder wizard continued forward towards the bank of the pond without them, a swirling storm of death and magic.

'_Albus_!' This time he pulled Lilómëa out of the way just in time as a blast of pink psychic energy crackled through the space that she had just been in, a wave of lightning crackling from his hands into the form of a monstrous flesh golem in retaliation.

'**_ALBUS_**! You need to get control of yourself.' Annoyed at the older man's lack of response, Hadrian made eye contact with Rath'gar.

"Go, me and the Princess shall keep the rest of them from reaching you." The prince's bloodlust was evident as he butchered any and all psychic monsters brave enough to come within striking distance of his bloody blade.

After a quick nod to Rath'gar and Lilómëa, Hadrian pushed some magic into his legs and literally jumped after Albus. The magic in his legs sending him floating above the brain golem that stood in his path.

His feet touched down on the black stone with a crunch, digging his feet into the ground he bled off his forward momentum before rolling forward into a crouch. Standing to his full height, Hadrian froze as he noted what was in front of him.

Floating like some horrible facsimile of a pink lotus above the perfectly circular pond of god knows what, was the Elder Brain.

It was, for lack of any sufficient comparison, just a gargantuan brain. Easily 17 feet across and 25 feet long, black tentacles extended downwards like some demented jellyfish. The horrific tendrils swayed in an invisible wind as they curled out of the liquid night surrounding the great brain. What looked like a brain-stem plunged down into the liquid below, only adding to the lotus imagery that Hadrian's mind could not escape.

{_SO yoU hAve CoMe tO KKiLL Us?}_ Hadrian's head swam as the psychic voice of the Elder Brain echoed through his mind, like so many voices all speaking at the same time, a cacophony of sound that skipped the physical world and poured directly into his mind.

Gritting his teeth and reinforcing his occlumency, Hadrian looked over at Albus, the only sign of strain a slight clenching of his hand.

/We have come to end your blight/ Albus' telepathic response was saturated with the power he was leaking.

If Hadrian had expected some other response from the massive floating brain, he would have been disappointed as no sooner had Albus completed his telepathic challenge than did two tentacles burst forth from the waters seeking to coil around them with a death grip.

From up close the tentacles were more scaly then he imagined, and Hadrian was reminded bizarrely of the legend of Medusa and her hideous hair of writhing snakes. Pushing the thought from his mind, he focused on the moment.

A flash of Eldingr's silver blade and the Elder Brain had one tentacle less. He leaped back as two more slammed into where he waa standing, and chanced a glance at Albus.

The tentacle was wrapped around this elder wizard's staff, but he was not alarmed in the least, a feral smile spreading across the wizened man's face.

A wave of death magic began to leak into the offending tentacle, spreading fast, even as the Elder Brain's panic became evident. A disturbing shhhlliiiikkk of torn flesh sounded as the Elder Brain tore its own tentacle from its body to prevent the necrotic magic from reaching any further.

{_NOOO_} A psychic pulse flew from where the Elder Brain's main bulk floated over the center of the pond. Hadrian and Albus were blown backwards from the shockwave, their magical shield folding from the pressure.

Paralysis gripped Hadrian and Albus as their minds struggled to fend off the crippling psychic attack. If a legilimency probe was a hammer, then this assault was a battering ram.

Like a rampaging hippogriff, clarity collided with Albus' mind. The haze of rage he felt replaced by panic as he awoke to find he could not move. Focusing his magic he began to resist the paralysis, his magic eating away at the viscous spell-craft of the Elder Brain.

While still in the process of freeing himself, he distantly felt his body get scooped up by a tentacle; its slimy surface coiling around him tightly.

As he strained against the tentacle, he reached up and touched the tentacle, and sucked. Life and power trickled into him. Albus felt a sudden boost of power. It was a strange feeling that started as a tingling in his extremities before rushing through him, as if someone had injective liquid energy straight into his veins. It was unlike anything he had experienced before. One tentacle was replaced by another, and he felt himself continue to move closer to the brain.

In the span of a few breath's he was no longer straining against the psionic attack. He had broken the mental battering ram against suddenly revitalized mental walls, and as he focused on the world around him again he found he now had to contend against the physical tentacles of the Elder Brain.

In the time he was mentally indisposed they had dragged him over the pond and were threatening to crush him in their grip.

With a grunt, he wiggled a hand loose and grasped the tentacle surrounding him. From there he used his death touch to necrotize the tentacle, knowing that he would be released rather than risk any of his magic being allowed to reach the Elder Brain's main body.

He only realized the folly of his plan halfway through his fall towards the cold black liquid below.

Whatever the mysterious liquid was it was most certainly not water. It was sticky, like an odd gelatinous slime, and warm, like an oasis, left to boil in the noon heat of the desert.

Albus resisted the urge to freeze as he felt something swim by him, brushing against his feet as they tread through the liquid keeping him afloat. Panic filled him as the pulse of magic he had released outwards like a bat's echolocation returned to him.

It was not some strange breed of fish, but a tadpole. An Illithid tadpole. Closing his eyes tight, Albus raised his wand and silently cast a spell. '_Ascendare_.'

The simple spell likely saved his life as he was blasted out of the fluid, landing in an uncomfortable heap on the hard stone. Standing up, Albus quickly cast a series of cleaning charms on himself to cleanse himself of the remaining mystery fluid.

He still felt unclean.

But he had no time to dwell on his feeling of uncleanliness, his head was spinning, a dull ache starting up behind his eyes. Something was wrong, his occlumency, it was failing.

Jerking in surprise, Albus felt the numerous protections surrounding his mind fail all at once, the only thing between his naked mind and the Elder Brain's psionic attack was the sigil that Hadrian had insisted he use regardless of his potent occlumency.

The sigil, Albus had argued, was redundant; he had many of his own cast after all. Still, in the end, Hadrian had worn him down and cast one for him. It was never meant to be the first line of defense, but as he felt all of his own protections fail, he made a mental note to thank Hadrian if they got out of this alive. Feeling Hadrian's Aegis of Athena flaring brightly on his forehead gave him a small measure of hope that they would indeed escape this.

A circlet of runes flickered into existence as the Elder Brain tried to force its way into Albus' mind and establish a connection he could use to dominate and control. The runes began to heat up, going from warm to scorching in an instant.

Using the last of his will, Albus cut his connection to Hadrian. If he was going down, there was no way that he was allowing Hadrian to be taken down with him, he had no doubt the Elder Brain could use their connection against his young apprentice.

Albus fled deeper and deeper into his mind as he felt his skin blister under the intense backlash that the runes inflicted on him as they were overpowered. Even through the pain, Albus knew something terrible was about to happen, even as the slimy presence of the Elder Brain slithered into his defenseless mind like a parasite, he knew that whatever was happening to him, was only just beginning.

Time stretched as Albus valiantly attempted to protect his mind from the psychic giant. But it was hopeless. He could do nothing in the face of this power, of this experience, and this cruelty.

_{Did you think that you could truly resist me?}_ This was a far cry from the cacophony of voices he and Hadrian had heard before on the streets of Thosdagokshe. No this voice was soothing, a silken hiss. It was a voice Albus could listen to for hours and pick out a new subtle tenor every minute that passed. A voice that Albus knew with every fiber of his being would know best what he should do.

For the life of him, he couldn't understand why they had resisted so hard, why they had been arrogant enough to attempt to slay this benevolent creature; it only wanted to help. Albus now knew the truth, that the only way forward was with this great mind leading the way.

If the Elder Brain had the mouth needed to do so, it would have smiled.

* * *

Hadrian picked himself up, he had been paralyzed and blasted backwards. Shaking the effects of the attack had taken him a while even with Lilómëa's help. Mentally ripping the last of the cobwebs from his mind, Hadrian refocused just in time to see Albus plunging down into the liquid night below the Elder Brain.

A shout of horror slipped from his lips unbidden as he ran forwards, intent on ending the Elder Brain once and for all.

Before he could get close enough to bring his sword to bear though, Albus erupted from the liquid, landing some distance away.

At first, a sense of relief filled him at seeing his mentor seemingly alive and well, if likely smelly. Yet, before even a sigh of relief could escape him he was hit with a profound sense of emptiness. Deep within his gut, he knew he was missing something that he had had only a moment earlier.

A pillar he had always unknowingly relied on was removed from under him without warning. The connection between him and Albus… it… it was gone.

The backlash of the rushed severing of the bond made Hadrian's vision swim as a stream of blood leaked from his nose, spittle of bloody bubbles spilling from pursed lips.

Then Albus screamed. It was not the kind of scream that Hadrian wanted to hear from the lips of his mentor, this was the blood-curdling scream of a man in excruciating pain.

Blinking the black spots from his vision, Hadrian called the lightning, letting it crackle along his arms and legs as he leaped forward. Pushing his vertigo and pain to the side, Hadrian sunk deep into his own magic and the familiar power of Eldingr as he called upon it to help him defend the sanity of someone who had become dear to him.

Flying through the air, Hadrian raised his hands to his mouth, Eldingr floating beside him ready to be wielded. With a gesture a sigil flickered into existence as he roared, lightning erupting from his mouth looking more like a dragon's breath than any lightning bolt that Hadrian had ever summoned.

Albus, to Hadrian's relief, went blessedly silent as the bolt of charged energy roared towards the Elder Brain. A high pitch sound ringing throughout the chamber as the Great Brain used its psionic powers to deflect the torrent of lightning away from its prone form.

The lightning curled around it, errant bolts striking the water, causing a telepathic scream to echo through everyone's mind.

Rath'gar for his part noticed that the wave of Illithid he and Lilómëa were holding off scrambled and screeched as they felt the telepathic backlash that washed over them at the Elder Brain's pain.

His feet touching down on the ground again, Hadrian ran towards Albus.

Sliding to a stop near his fallen companion, Hadrian looked him over. If Hadrian felt fear creeping up his spine.

It was not a fear similar to what he had felt when he stood in front of Gorzoth, nor like when Ilsensagron had looked down at him like a snack. This was a whole new level of fear, because it wasn't just him who was at risk, it was Albus, his friend, his mentor.

Working fast, Hadrian gestured upwards with his wand, and then with a sharp slash to the side a flash of light seared into Hadrian's eyes. The effect was obvious. The circle of stone that they were on broke from the bank of the Elder Brain's pond and moved Hadrian and Albus away from the shore of the brain fluid, towards the relative safety of his companion's locations.

Albus needed help, and fast.

* * *

Rath'gar and Lilómëa were occupied with their own problem, at this point they had both dealt with their fair share of cultists. Cultists were prevalent in both the drow and goblin societies, but Illithid cultists trumped them all in their madness. It seemed a hivemind created a feedback loop that only fed their madness; in truth, their single-mindedness was almost impressive.

Lilómëa's royal garb and elegant demeanor often made many underestimate her: a mistake. She was a strong fighter, not like her sister in raw power, admittedly.

Her dark hair clung to her light grey skin, and she moved with a grace that was more dancer than predator. It was more facade than not. Her fingernails being painted a mithril silver was something that most simply took as an ostentatious status symbol, such nail polishes did exist, but it was a far more practical and perhaps far more lethal fashion choice than any suspected.

Moving in a flicker, Lilómëa's shadowy ethereal spider-like legs lashed out from her cloak, puncturing through the faces of any and all who came near her. Their mithral points slicing through armor and flesh effortlessly.

A glance at Rath'gar showed their enemies were taking the quantity over quality approach. He was surrounded by hordes of rushing Illithid's intent on killing the interlopers.

Lilómëa did what magic she did best and cast a hex.

* * *

Rath'gar was deep in his berserka'rar state, his enemies little more than moving targets for his swords. For each one that he slayed, three more stepped forward and powerful though his rage was, it was not infinite.

He focused on the primordial rage in his blood and fanned the flames. His rage roared like a fire fed oxygen. Power leaked out of him like a stream of flowing blood as his power exploded from him, his rage growing more than he had ever imagined possible. It was nearly all-consuming, but his iron control kept the rage directed.

More and more illithid fell to his whirlwind of death, their blood only adding to his swirling cloak. Suddenly Rath'gar felt something click, and unbidden Rath'gar raised one of his twin swords with a snarl, Red Dawn whispering a spell into his mind, roaring unprompted through his lips.

"Mendidih!" Rath'gar's roar was embellished by the fiery halo that ignited over his head. The berserka'rar looking more avenging angel then goblin at this point, the fire increasing in height as the surrounding Illithid began screaming.

It was similar to what Albus or Hadrian would call a blood boiler. This however was pureblood magic. Anything with even a drop of illithid blood in a 30 foot range felt their blood begin to burn as Rath'gar's artifact used its medley of fire and blood and rage to curse them.

In what was perhaps anticlimactic the Illithid wave combusted, red fire consuming their forms as their bodies became the fuel for a wall of bloodfire that plugged the main hall in a crescent around Rath'gar.

Rath'gar took a breath, and the fire surrounding him died down around him, their enemies temporarily dealt with. Every time he used the power of his artifact, it became easier for him. Nodding to Lilómëa, Rath'gar and the princess took off after their wayward companions.

Lilómëa and Rath'gar leaped down the steps leading them deeper into the Tengkorak and came to a stop in front of the dome shield that housed Hadrian and a prone Albus.

Both only had to wait for a second as without looking up at them, a hole opened up in front of them in the shimmering milky shield, closing up as they crossed the barrier.

Albus was in horrible shape, his face was burned with the runic backlash that he had suffered.

"Let me try to help him." Even as she spoke the Drow Princess gestured and a thrum sounded through the air. As the darkness grew, the luminescence of the pond faded for a second as the Drow cast a hex of psionic soothing on Albus.

Instantly, Albus' face relaxed, still tormented, but substantially less so. Another gesture of her hands and Lilómëa summoned a sigil, one that represented Albus' overall health and functionality, his mind glowing an angry red. Something that Hadrian suspected had only happened after he had touched that liquid.

"Will he be alright?" Hadrian asked worriedly, to Lilómëa.

"I am not sure. Something is going on, something that I don't quite underst-" her gasp was the only warning they had as Albus' eyes snapped open, a kindly expression on his face.

"Thank you, my dear." Standing up, Albus drew his wand and cast several charms on himself. "I am alright, no need to worry."

'Albus?' Hadrian knew the connection had been closed but the lack of response that Hadrian received sent a creeping shiver up his spine, fear blossoming as he didn't know Albus' condition

"You know I have realized something, why are we fighting? What is it that the Illithid have done that is so wrong we seek to kill them in their own homes? Are we not the villains in this story?" Albus' face was wrong, too serene, too calm.

The group took a step back, Rath'gar slowly stoking his rage, the rage he felt that kindly Albus was in this situation in the first place; the blood cloak that he still had on, slowly churning as he looked cautiously at the kind man that he had come to respect immensely with a large degree of suspicion.

Lilómëa prepared to cast a hex on the older man, to take him out before this could begin, but before she could make her move, a glowing green ring flickered into existence around Albus' kind blue eyes.

" You not understand the goodness you are resisting, I have understood, surrender to the Great Mind, or be pacified." The voice coming from Albus' mouth was still the kind gentle tone that he normally used, infinitely more unsettling than the Elder Brain's multi-tonal speech.

Hadrian for his part just gaped at Albus. This was bad, of all of the people that had to get mind-controlled it had to be Albus Fucking Dumbledore.

Hadrian only had a split second to process what had happened as the shield he had cast to give them time to breathe from the Elder Brain popped.

The backlash of the shield's destruction sending Hadrian, Rath'gar, and Lilómëa flying backward. Albus watched his kind smile completely out of place in the twisted environment.

The Elder Wand flickered into his hand, looking far more wicked than any of their party remembered it looking.

"Pacification it is," Albus said entirely too happy.

* * *

Hadrian had sparred Albus in the past, but frankly, it had not prepared him for this. Spells flew out of Albus Dumbledore's wand so fast it appeared he was firing a multi-colored beam from his wand rather than individual spells.

Hadrian shielded both Rath'gar and Lilómëa, grunting from the effort, his mage shield glowing white in every place that Albus' spells impacted. The multicolored magic ricocheted off of the domed shield and careened through the room, deep gouges and scorch marks littering the ground around Hadrian. With a gesture, Hadrian transferred the shield to his off hand and began firing his own spells at Albus, stunner, bludgeoning curse, paralysis curse, sleep curse, blindness charm, stunner. Not a single one even made it close to Albus.

With a flourish, Hadrian used one of Albus' own tricks, a blast pushing a cloud of dust in the air even as he turned the dust into paralysis spores and sent them back at Albus with a short gust of wind. Knowing that Albus would have to spend a few seconds overcoming his transfiguration, he turned towards Rath'gar and Lilómëa. Both were looking at him expectantly from where they had joined him in crouching behind one of the many pillars dotting the chamber.

"We need to take Albus out as cleanly and fast as we can, we likely can't win a prolonged battle against him!" Rath'gar nodded sharply at his statement while Lilómëa gave a focused nod. "We move on three then. One, two, THREE."

The three split apart, each moving in a different direction using a different pattern. Lilómëa climbed straight up the backside of the pillar, Hadrian moved left and Rath'gar ducked right.

Albus for his part fired spells at all three with barely a second in-between. Daggers flew at rath'gar, ice at Hadrian, and snakes curled around the pillar after Lilómëa.

Hadrian blasted the ice spikes out of the air even as Rath'gar let go of his carefully corralled rage.

"_Uk grat'ma gaar berserka'gh! GaAAaaR UThAaaar!_" Instantly Albus' eyes and entire visage turned to the raging Goblin and then the world around them exploded in fire. Exploding into existence around Albus was the largest firestorm Hadrian had ever seen. Golden flames churned into existence around the wizard, his beard, once white, no longer flapped in the displaced air.

Rath'gar simply grinned ferally, his sword angled towards Albus, the fire rushed towards him, consuming him in an instant. So bright and hot was the flame that Hadrian was forced to shield himself, and Lilómëa used magic to surround herself in a magically reinforced cocoon of spider webs. Both weathering the unending and seemingly infinite golden flames Albus had summoned to destroy them all.

Rath'gar for his part felt only rage. Not towards Albus but at the damnable brain for making him fight the wizard in the first place. Still, Rath'gar snarled aloud, the brain would learn why berserka'rar were the doom of all magic users.

With a deep breath, Rath'gar charged forward powerfully thrusting Red Dawn forward, a pulse rocketing through the Tengkorak as the Goblin's nullification and his Artifact worked together and unwrote Albus' flames from existence.

The backlash was colossal, perhaps even more deadly than the firestorm in some ways, but the real difference was the firestorm had been controlled. It burned only whom it was directed to burn, this was something else entirely.

Hadrian watched with wide eyes as Rath'gar, a powerful fighter no doubt, charged Albus Dumbledore head-on, the nimble goblin warrior leaping over the spikes Albus caused to erupt from the ground. He burned through the vines that burst towards him in an attempt to bind and crush him. Every spell and trick Albus fired at him was undone by either nullification, fire, or pure goblin rage.

The distance quickly closed despite Albus' best attempts, Red Dawn and the full-size Death stick, clashing together with an ear-shattering discharge of magical energy.

Eyes wide Hadrian dismissed his shield, turning to Lilómëa who dropped down next to the young Arcanist.

"We need to help him!" Hadrian said quietly, though it seemed that Rath'gar was holding his own, the magic nullification and his fire sword being enough to prevent Albus' rather prodigious abilities in magic from overwhelming him for now.

Lilómëa shook her head. "Do not forget this doesn't end without the defeat of the Elder Brain, I will help Rath'gar you go and deal with why we are here in the first place."

Hadrian's eyes became flinty and his jaw clenched in displeasure, but he knew she spoke the truth.

Deciding to trust his companions, Hadrian approached the brain, knowing that no matter what he tried, there was no sneaking up on this thing.

_{DO yOU nOt CaRE foR AlbUS?}_ The voices of the giant brain were amused,_ {HE wilL DIe wiTH ME!}_ The amusement changed to anger when Hadrian launched the mother of all lightning bolts from Eldingr, the bolt clearing the distance between Hadrian and the pink monstrosity in an instant.

The angry jagged bolt seemed to freeze mere feet away from the massive brain before veering back towards Harry at twice the speed.

All at once dozens of tentacles exploded towards him, each one squid-like with long leaf-shaped tips glinting in the darkness.

Hadrian's own dark sight allowed him to see as they moved towards him. Trusting his precognition, Hadrian ducked under the first strike and sliced through the tip of another and finally stabbed a third into the ground even as he fired off two more lightning bolts from his left hand.

A pulse went through the air as Hadrian's precognition screamed at him to get out of the way. A psionic pulse rippled out from the brain.

Realizing that it was expanding in a dome, Hadrian sprinted up the bank and turned around. The field dispersed at the edge of the bank.

It appeared that the bank was created by the limits of the psionic range of the brain's pulse.

Hadrian ran forward again, launching bolt after bolt only for each to be directed away. On his journey forward he was forced to weave around the tentacles that came after him like a bloodhound who had caught a scent.

Hadrian made a beeline towards what he had identified as the Elder Brain's largest weakness against someone like him, the pool of liquid that it was partially submerged in.

He neared the bank with Eldingr fully in its sword form. Skidding to a halt, Hadrian thrust down into the pool even as he launched another bolt for the brain.

The brain realized too late what Hadrian's plan was. As tentacles moved towards him faster than he had yet seen, Hadrian acted.

He needed no incantation for what he planned, simply pouring power into the sword and letting it do what it did best: summon lightning.

The entire pool lit up like a phosphorus flare. Crackling lightning creeping its way up the stalk and to the brain proper.

Hadrian heard the Elder Brain scream in his mind, the brain visibly bubbling as the tender flesh acted as a conduit to far more electricity than its delicate form was able to handle. A popping noise sounded as something in the massive brain burst. The tentacles slackened, the stalk that held the massive brain drooped like a wilting flower and the whole thing collapsed inwards.

Silence reigned. Hadrian was the only being in the room that didn't hesitate.

He fired the largest bolt he could summon directly at the brain, the bolt spearing through grey matter and exiting the other side, splashing against the stone wall some way behind the Elder Brain.

The flesh rapidly shriveled and rotted around the charred mark.

Taking that as sufficient notice of the Elder Brain's demise, Hadrian turned in his place and sprinted back to where he had seen Albus and Rath'gar fighting. He noticed no Illithid around, the barrier of Rath'gar's bloodfire still blocking the only entrance he had seen.

Seeing Rath'gar and Lilómëa both crouching down made Hadrian's heart jump into his chest.

He knew that with magic such as possession or any psionics, the backlash of severing the connection could be as damaging as a lobotomy.

Sliding to a halt, Hadrian took one look at Lilómëa's abnormally ashen face and Rath'gar's grave look and nearly threw up. Bending down, he made eye contact with his master, searching for a sign of his mentor, a broken man drooled back at him. A chasm of delirium threatened to consume Hadrian.

A choked sob sprung from his throat, even as tears leaked unbidden from his eyes at the overwhelming guilt that rose up inside of him. Then came the feeling of helplessness as the realization that he had no one to turn to set in.

A pulse went through the room. Hadrian looked up, feeling nothing, except despair. Turning to Lilómëa and Rath'gar both of whom were looking worriedly at him from their positions next to Albus, Hadrian reached out like a drunken man, the desperate eyes of someone who had lost too much reaching out to them for support as he looked up at the ceiling from his place on the ground, and saw tentacles reaching down from them. Unfurling in the shadows.

Madness, it was all madness.

Eyes wide with fright at what he expected the tentacles to mean, Hadrian took a deep breath, drowning himself in light and fire, in his magic, in himself. Using his Occlumency to force his mind to obey him, to smother his overwhelming emotions as Hadrian dragged himself to his feet.

Taking a deep breath in, he stabilized himself, his eyes no longer wide as he gripped the shoulder of Rath'gar. He looked straight into the Goblin's eyes. "Take Albus and run," it was no request, it was an order, "get him to the spiderling, make haste, I will buy you the time you need.

A charm later and Albus was light as a feather and as small as one. Human transfiguration was difficult even for him, so it would only last maybe an hour, no more but perhaps less.

Neither Rath'gar nor Lilómëa argued, though Hadrian greatly suspected he would be receiving a riot act if he survived this.

Both were quick to exit the room through Rath'gar's fire barrier. As the flame parted for them harmlessly, Lilómëa looked back with sadness and worry as Hadrian turned back to the body of the Elder Brain, another shaky breath leaving his body.

The circular pool had a border of smokey green tentacles swaying like a massive monstrous sea anemone. The walls, the ceilings, even the pillars were covered with crawling eldritch tentacles.

Hadrian began casting.

He and Albus had readied a plethora of spells for this very moment. A summoning charm later and Hadrian held out a scroll containing a spell called Dome of Rationality. Another scroll, Greater Helm of Logic, followed the first in short order. None of these would have helped them against the powers of the Elder Brain, these spells were exclusively used to prevent madness, not the preventable psionic backlash of a severed psychic link that Albus had experienced. No this was for the likes of Gorzoth, the likes of Ilsensine.

A greek hoplite helm formed of shimmering golden magic flickered into existence over Hadrian's face. Sigilic bands of their prepared greater magics winding around Hadrian's arms, bands meant for them both, but that Hadrian had no doubt he would need all of if he was to survive what was to come with his mind unshattered.

Even from the grip of insanity, Albus was helping Hadrian. The older wizards magic preserved in the scroll not needing Albus' presence to save Hadrian, the feeling of his mentor's magic calming Hadrian immensely.

Hadrian sank into his magic, any moment now and his time could be up.

The swirling tentacles around the Elder Brain began spinning, impossibly, closing like the many-petaled bud of a massive and horrifying flower. Power suffused the air as true madness descended to Svartalfheimr.

The buds petals curled and then opened, an action mirrored by every single of the hundred other tentacle clusters covering the Tengkorak. And out of them all stepped an avatar of the god of madness Ilsensine.

Ilsensine was a surprisingly normal height, barely breaking the six-foot barrier. A dark green cloak flowing and ethereal, golden armor, making him glow, every single scale of his armor the shape of a miniature golden brain. The armor's golden brain-scales accented with green leather visibly forming tentacle accents along the edges.

If Hadrian had been thinking about it, Ilsensine looked more human than Illithid, but Hadrian was not thinking of it, Hadrian was struggling to think of much of anything as the presence of Ilsensine knocked all thought from his mind surely as it sucked the air from his lungs.

The golden mask of Ilsensine drew his mind, protected as it was by the Helm of Rationality, to the brink of madness.

The god wore a helm of solid gold, the eye holes voids of shadows, the curling tentacles, illithid-like, the dorsels on the top of his cephalopod-like head arranged in the cruel perversion of a crown.

_{Did you really think you could slay my children with no consequence? Hadrian of Midgard}_ Ilsensines voice was a whisper, frayed nightmares, and reality. Horror combined into a new and hellish experience.

Hadrian had nothing to say. No response he could give, the presence of Ilsensine was far greater than any god he had yet experienced. Thoth was a cinder in comparison to the Lord of Madness, his presence greater than even Osiris.

Even Joradin had not been so pow—

Hadrian nearly lurched backward in realization, only managing to prevent the reaction at the last moment.

The staring contest between him and the mask of Ilsensine continued in silence.

_{The question was far from rhetorical.}_ Ilsensine's cool and logical voice belaying the insanity that he embodied.

_{Your creations are a blight! Parasites, what did you expect?}_ The swirling field of tentacles writhed at their lord's rage. Hadrian needed to keep the god talking, he needed time to complete his prayer. 'Oh Joradin, chief of Svartalfheimr, I ask for your aid.'

_{A blight? The irony that you, a midgardian, would call an Illithid a parasite must be lost on your inferior intellect. Your kind multiplies like vermin, no more useful than livestock.}_ Ilsensine gestured at Hadrian,_{Tell me oh mighty slayer of my progeny, how did you kill my dear Ilsensagron?}_ Ilsensine seemed genuinely distraught at the death of his monstrous dragon-illithid child.

_{I blew his head off after he was arrogant enough to think me simple prey.}_ Hadrian responded in the true tongue, even as he recited the prayer for a second time '_Oh Joradin, chief of Svartalfheimr, twice-bound, I ask for your aid.'_

_{But do you not realize yet? You are prey.}_ Ilsensine's posture showed the god's rage, and Hadrian knew he had to do something to keep him talking, so he said something he knew he would regret.

_{If I am the prey, why am I wearing your demigod son for boots?} 'Oh Joradin, chief of Svartalfheimr, thrice bound, aid me.'_

Illsensine reared back as if struck, a molten rage clear in his eldritch gaze, and right before Hadrian though he went too far and that he was about to be smited, everything froze.

* * *

Hadrian was standing in a forge. The Dwarven god looked at him curiously, a pair of tongs holding a glowing pauldron absently. Hadrian looked back.

_{It has been a while since a mortal has dared to be so, how shall we say, demanding in how they beseech my favor, even my own niece is never so direct.}_ The god quenched the pauldron, setting down the tongs once the steam stopped billowing. _{Still, I did tell you that I owed you, so what was so urgent it requires my immediate attention?}_

_{My lord, I am currently in the Tengkorak, Ilsensine has manifested an avatar after I slayed the Elder Brain.}_ The forge's fire roared and Hadrian was taken aback by the normally calm and friendly god's rage.

_{The Tentacled one is here? In Svartalfheim? He dared to send his spawn here, but this is the first time he has dared come himself.}_ Joradin's form flickered. No longer the regal-looking Dwarf. Instead, Joradin was a viciously armored dwarf with a massive Battlehammer. The sheer amount of power radiating from it told Hadrian that it was the god's symbol of power.

_{What is it that you will ask of me Hadrian Potter?}_ This Hadrian suspected was another non-rhetorical question.

_{I wish your aid in driving Ilsensine from this place.}_ Hadrian beseeched, the god's expression turning dark.

_{Then you shall have it.}_ The god splayed one hand, and in it a bottle appeared.

{_You are little use to me in the fight as you are. Consider this my repayment for the debt owed._} The god handled the bottle carefully, almost reverently. {_The last spark of the last Thunderer of Svartalfheimr. He faded long ago, this single spark all that remains of him. May it serve you well thunderling. Call for me and I will come. Realize that without you summoning me, and without your participation in the battle it will be impossible for me alone to banish an avatar of an interloping god. You must strike Ilsensine for me, do not hesitate when the opportunity arises.}_

The god didn't wait for an answer, slamming the hand with the spark bottle into Hadrian's chest, the bottle shattering, sending his consciousness careening back into his body.

* * *

Hadrian found himself in the exact moment that he had been pulled from to meet with Joradin. Ilsensine reeling back as he looked at Hadrian' in what was clearly incredulous rage.

_{You are far from the master of wit you clearly believe yourself to be, perhaps that shall change once you welcome madness._} Even in the true tongue, Ilsensines words conveyed his utter disgust and malificance.

The god splayed his hand and Hadrian felt the Helm of Logic crumple into nothingness. As fast as he could, Hadrian cast the Dome of Rationality, it blossomed to life in a split second, bathing Hadrian in its white pearlescent glow.

Suddenly, Hadrian felt his connection with Albus flicker back to life. Hope welled up inside of him, fragile and tentative, but there. Reaching out to Albus he hesitantly opened the connection between them.

The wizened mind he felt at the other end was one he knew almost as well as his own.

The damn he had built to hold back the small swelling of hope he had felt shattered and from it spilled more than hope. An aching relief so bone deep it felt intrinsic to his being was also present, along with a pure joy Hadrian could only remember feeling in the vague memories of more innocent childhood days.

Albus was back! And with his presence he banished the dark thoughts that Hadrian hadn't even noticed until they were gone.

Meanwhile, Ilsensine, his own eyes sharp and hateful, seemed content to watch and see what the puny mortal's move would be.

_'Hadrian are you alright?'_ Albus' voice was strained and urgent.

_'Albus? How is this possible?'_ Hadrian felt foolish for questioning the good fortune, but against a being that played with the minds of mortals he knew he had to be cautious.

_'The spiderling she helped heal my mind.'_ Albus responded, weariness still present in his voice.

_'Albus. Ilselsine is here.'_ Hadrian said it bluntly, knowing there was no time to beat around the bush.

Albus' shock rebounded down their connection.

'Hadrian, what are you-' Suddenly there was a flicker, and appearing in front of Ilsensine with nary a sound stood a shocked Albus.

_{Well, well well, it looks like you brought a friend, let's welcome him into madness.}_ Ilsensine hissed both mentally and physically with a sibilant voice.

He bent over the paralyzed Albus, the golden tentacles moved, swirling as Ilsensine latched onto Albus' head. Hadrian urged his body to move but he was trapped in place, only able to twitch his fingers and toes as he strained with all his might.

Hadrian screamed as his mentor—his friend—who had just recently been healed, had his brain devoured by a fel god in front of him, all because Hadrian had reached out to him, it was all his fault.

Albus' eyes snapped open, staring right at Hadrian, accusing. 'You caused this,' they seemed to say.

Albus' mental accusation filtered into Hadrian's mind even as his connection with the man withered as he passed on, consumed by the dripping maw of Ilsensine, but his blue eyes full of accusation, they kept staring at Hadrian.

Ilsensine lifted his head, blood smeared across the mask, and screamed. He screamed and sound lost its meaning. An echoing void of nothingness blasted outwards where there should be noise.

Hadrian screamed, and screamed, but he couldn't hear his own voice, it was swallowed by the nothingness of a mad god.

Hadrian kept screaming until lightning began to flicker in his eyes. It started as a low hum, but within seconds it was a roar, overpowering even the unnatural silence Ilsensine had imposed on the world.

With a crack, reality splintered.

As Hadrian came to, he was again standing across from Ilsensine, the god looking at him, surprise visible in even his horrible, unnatural body language.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Hadrian felt tears burn against his lids, ready to fall. Instead, he shoved the trauma to the back of his mind, using high-level mind arts to compartmentalize his feelings.

Hadrian cast Dome of Rationality, this time he knew it worked.

_{How unexpected.}_ The dry voice of the Many-Tentacled god of Madness cut through the air like a knife. _{It seems you are more than just mortal then, perhaps you are worth more attention than I originally thought you were.}_

Now that Hadrian was somewhat defended, he took the time to let the reality of the situation bleed back.

Looking around he saw no blood on the mask of Ilsensine, nor was Albus' body lying at his feet staring accusatory at him. Hadrian took a deep breath, his Occlumency working overtime to patch to match the simple passive pressure of the being in front of him.

Centering himself, Hadrian looked up, avoiding looking into Ilsensine's hollow never-ending eyes as he did so._{It seems my spellwork was not fast enough after all, that was playing dirty.}_

_{I am the god of madness, what made you think I would play fair? All things aside, I am going to enjoy flaying your mind for eternity, you really are the most irritating little creten.}_ Ilsensine seemed amused, drawing his sword as he spoke.

It was twisted and gnarled, but Hadrian knew from just a glance that a single scratch would make him wish that he had taken his own life.

With a gesture, the cavern fragmented. Pieces of gravel becoming boulders as they twist through the air, the tentacles swirling, their previously arm-like length stretching, each one reaching out to him as if in a deadly embrace. Their very presence stretching his mental barriers beyond what he knew his mind could have handled without the sigils that literally held his mind together.

The tentacles yawned in front of him, inescapable. Their crushing yet paradoxical gentle touch as they wound around his leg and chest was unbearable.

Breathing became impossible as he felt the darkness creep into his vision, the image of Ilsensine in the center of his vision no matter how he flailed. His mage armor glowed angrily in warning as the tentacles applied inhuman pressure on him.

In the end it was pain that saved him, the sizzling of his own flesh giving him the clarity he needed to act.

With a silent snarl, Hadrian felt for the spark that Jordan had gifted him.

He found it easily enough. The issue was that it was rather pathetic. In time, Hadrian had no doubt he could absorb it like he had the elvish magic he had received in his adolescence. For now though it was just a spark.

Taking a deep breath, Hadrian channeled his own magic into the spark, his magic instantly copying the feel and shape of the divine spark, and exploded the power outwards from his body in a wave of destructive force.

The tentacles dissolved under his touch and he dropped from its grip. As he fell he had the queer though that up and down had long since lost meaning in this twisted place.

He fell and kept on falling. Picking up speed, yet getting no closer to the ground, nor further from Ilsensine. As he twisted and fell through space, Ilsensines stoic mask looked at him impassively from all angles.

Panic, a deep animalistic fear, welled up in Hadrian. Was there no end to this?

Hadrian shook his head to snap himself out of the all-consuming terror creeping up on him with panther-like stealth; it was unnatural. Instead he summoned a sigil under his feet, the same sigil he had used so long ago over the quidditch pitch. Slamming his hands together, his fingers curled and with a crackle, one of the rings of runes around his upper left arm vanished as he used one of his prepared Domes of Rationality, canceling out Ilsensines madness reality distortion.

The world stopped spinning. Hadrian looked at Ilsensine angrily, releasing a bolt of lightning directly at the monster.

The might bolt sputtered out before it even came close to the god of madness.

He could hear the voices echoing in his mind now. _'You are weak.' 'You are pathetic.' 'You have no power here.'_ The voices were insidious, he knew he shouldn't listen, but it was harder than it should be to shut them out.

Refusing to allow the voices any more purchase, Hadrian again slammed his hands together, Eldingr floating into place from where it had fallen earlier. Another pearly Dome of Rationality appeared to free his mind of the madness-inducing voices.

Summoning Eldingr back to his hand, Hadrian felt the spark of Joradin's gift like a miniature sun inside of him, no longer small and weak, but now empowered by a spark of the divine.

Instead of small sparks flickering off him as he sunk deeply into his magic, Hadrian lit up like a flare in the night. Lightning crackling all around him, brighter and more powerful than anything Hadrian had achieved before.

No longer satisfied with letting the god dictate the environment, Hadrian thrust Eldingr towards the gods impassive figure and fired a stream of lightning at the God of Madness.

The god flickered, appearing inches away from his target, his arm smashing into a stunned Hadrian with the force of a dragon. Hadrian felt something in his mind break at the touch of the god.

_{I remember when Ilsensagron was a child. He was so precious. Breaking minds and furthering my goals, just seeking my favor. You killed him!}_ The god's previously logical and stoic demeanor shattered. The true brokenness of the being before him showing itself.

The blows rained down on him faster than anything Hadrian had seen before.

Eldingr intercepted the first strike, but the second sliced a line across his chest. His mage armor flaring white as a scream bubbled unwillingly from Hadrian's throat. He'd live, but the mage armor had been pushed to prodigious limits with a single scratch of Ilsensine's blade.

Fighting a god was truly idiocy.

_{Joradin!}_ Hadrian's cry was answered by an earth-shattering crack, as Joradin teleported into the room with no warning. The butt of his war hammer splitting the ground upon impact. Appearing like a statue of the god he was, the armored dwarf god looked at Ilsensine with anger beyond mortal comprehension.

{_How dare you trespass in this realm Ilsensine! Your spawn was not welcome here, and you are even less welcome than they, Lord of Madness!}_ Joradin's proclamation was followed by the god slamming the butt of his hammer into the ground, a ring of fire igniting around the edge of the Tengkorak.

The power of Joradin, Chief amongst the Divinities of Svartalfheim, and Ilsensine, present in a temple dedicated to him, warred with each other. The flames trying to overwhelm the tentacles and the tentacles trying to smother the flames.

_{Joradin, I will enjoy devouring this entire dimension after I banish you from it.}_

The two gods struck in mighty clashes that shook more than the room, reality itself trembled at their terrible might.

Hadrian for his part was unwilling to be forgotten and quickly leaped into the fray. Joradin's battle hammer and Hadrian's sword each became a weapon and shield shared between two bodies as they blocked and struck each other in turn, seeking to push their enemy back.

Hadrian found it peculiar that with such power at their hands, both of the gods resorted to what was simply a melee.

A glance at the edge of the room proved that false as the flames and the tentacles remained locked in battle with one another in the most peculiar manner.

Hadrian suspected that had they been out of the grounds of the Tengkorak, Joradin would have won rather quickly, but being as they were in the sacred space of Ilsensine, the Many Tentacled One clearly had an advantage that he would not normally have.

Hadrian saw Joradin get pushed back by Ilsensine, and without pause, Hadrian leaped forward taking Joradin's place, lightning roaring.

Hadrian suspected that his normal lightning could have roared all it wanted and still not even tickled the vengeful god.

Even with the spark of the Cavern Thunderer, Hadrian was little challenge for a true god. It was only Joradin's quick actions that saved him from getting gutted like a pig set for slaughter.

Joradin and Ilsensine fought blow for blow, Joradin's mighty Warhammer should have been heavier and harder to swing, but Hadrian suspected it was as much a part of the Forge Lord as Eldingr was him, and being the case, Jordin's fluid motions and Hadrian's short distracting thrusts slowly pushed Ilsensine back.

Lightning erupted from Eldingr in violent bursts of deadly potential. These were far from the thin chains of lightning he had summoned while fighting the Elder Brain. These were crackling streaks of death as thick around as the trunk of a young oak tree.

The battlefield smelt of ozone and burning flesh. Yet, for every tentacle that was smote to ash, another took its place.

Even in the midst of battle, Hadrian kept awareness of the greater situation around him. He saw the god try to summon madness to the plane of Svartalheimr and reacted instinctively, countering the spell with one of his prepared domes of rationality. The two waves of power canceling each other as they blossomed outwards.

Ilsensine's snarl was audible to Hadrian even from the other side of the chamber where he had retreated to after a particularly nasty combo from the God of Madness.

The two gods were forces of nature, colliding in a way that Hadrian had never imagined, they looked more concept than reality as they blurred and fought, single-minded in their goals.

Hadrian saw an opportunity when Joradin slammed his Warhammer into Ilsensines' guard, forcing the god's blade away from his center. The act created the opening Hadrian needed to blast the god with one of his new supercharged bolts of lightning.

The electricity coursed through the god's avatar, making him freeze just long enough for the ancient smith to strike the side of their enemy's head with a sickening crack.

For a moment Ilsensine's presence grew. Expanding outwards like water overflowing from a glass. The power he had tightly compacted into an avatar was shaken loose from the mighty blow.

The god struggled to maintain the grip he possessed on the mortal form he had assumed, but the damage was too great.

In truth the blow meant little, both gods were little more than divine power wrapped in a mortal shell at the moment. The true issue was that Joradin's blow had blown a hole in that shell, and like a balloon poked with a needle the inside was trying to escape.

If it had been Hadrian alone who had landed the blow it would mean little. The God of Madness would just patch the hole with a small application of his power, but it was not Hadrian who had struck the blow, it was Joradin, a fellow god.

In the moment where Ilsensine was exposed, Joradin had broken the stalemate the two beings had been in since the fight started.

The thick essence of the forge god pierced forward into the breached shell of his fellow god. The rift ruptured, growing bigger, spilling more and more divine essence into the world. An act which subsequently made the avatar of Ilsensines grow weaker as his power was diffused like a drop of liquid dye in a container of water.

Hadrian watched in awe as the gods stood still, straining against each other as their weapons remained locked together in the physical world, all the while battling fiercely in the metaphysical space surrounding them.

The brief relative to mortal time, -who knows how much time passed in the realm of space the gods battled in—struggle ended abruptly when Joradin was finally able to tear the hole in the avatar into a gaping wound.

The fel god's presence flared for a final time before wisps of power flowed and oozed from the masked form, the body of Ilsensine's avatar collapsing to the ground, dead. His power banished from this realm.

The tentacles around the room vanished into wisps of dark magic not visible to the eye while Joradin's flames climbed high in victory. The forge god bellowed his victory; a wave of powerful magic buffeting Hadrian as Joradin's roar echoed through the magics of the realm the same as the physical world.

For a moment Hadrian stood stunned, gazing around the room in awe. His mind trying to understand the fight he had just witnessed.

Eventually, Hadrian cautiously approached Joradin who was directing his flames to the pool of tadpoles, killing tens of thousands of the future parasitic monstrosities before they could grow.

_{Thank you Lord Joradin.}_ Hadrian was genuinely grateful for the gods' interference. He had stood no chance on his own against any god, let alone one like Ilsensine.

_{Now now, none of that! You have proved very helpful young thunderer, simply ridding us of Ilsensine's constant meddling on this plane alone is worthy of praise. Ignoring the defense of my children, and my niece's family, it was my pleasure.}_

Hadrian bowed in respect. Lifting his hand, Hadrian summoned a spark to his finger.

_{I suppose you will want this back?}_

Joradin waved his hand negligently. _{ No, it has been tainted by mortal magic, it is yours, now I must go, I suspect we shall not meet again.}_

Without waiting for a response from Hadrian, Joradin dissolved into smoke, leaving him the sole living being left in the empty Tengkorak.

Looking at the body of Ilsensine's avatar, Hadrian's body moved on its own accord. Stepping forward, the young thunderer made a gesture and tried to summon the fragments of armor into a bag.

To his immense surprise, it worked. Each piece flowing into the bag at his gesture.

He would deal with them later.

Taking one last look at the chamber, Hadrian turned and strode from the Tengkorak.

If there was one thing that Hadrian knew, in the moment, it was this: he wanted nothing to do with the Illithid any longer.

* * *

Rath'gar's blood fire had burned out when Joradin's flames had begun purging the building of any and all traces of Ilsensines power.

Even the long winding hallway of mind-altering architecture was no more, its magic broken. Instead, a simple stone hallway lay revealed to Hadrian as he made his way out of the temple.

He suspected the temple had been unsanctified when Joradin defeated the god of madness.

Hadrian slowly hobbled back through the city, moving like he was ten times his age because of the damage done by the tentacles when they had wound around him. The only reason he had made it was he used Eldingr in its staff form as a crutch.

He was fortunate that the mage armor had done its part or he doubted that he would have been able to leave the Tengkorak alive, or, more likely, with a free mind.

The city burned around him as Illithid ran to-and-fro unconcerned with his presence. He couldn't blame them, their world was ending.

The madness of their ruler and perhaps their god's death and departure from the plane crippling the hive minds' ability to govern the individuals.

Hadrian watched numbly as one of them jumped from the top of a nearby house crunching into the ground in front of Hadrian.

All at once, it hit him. What he'd seen over the past few days, what he'd done.

Hadrian's stomach bubbled and he emptied his stomach on the side of the street, too much had happened.

The irony that madness had been brought to Thosdagokshe after the god of madness had been banished from the dimension was not lost on Hadrian.

Still, such thoughts would have to wait, all he cared about was getting back to Albus.

**A/N:**

***Sorry we had technical difficultied, ffn deletes all of the grammar to signify the gods talking, I have tried fixing this, hope it is more readable...***

Hello! I want to start by apologizing for the long wait, this was an especially hard chapter, and I actually had to split what I wanted to be one chapter (Tengkorak and the journey to Alfheimr) into two separate chapters so I could avoid a 20k word monstrosity.

I know I have been getting complaints about a regular updating schedule, and I would just like to take a moment to address them, I do my best to get a chapter out a month, IF I can do more, I am happy to, but frankly, these are not regular Harry runs around Hogwarts chapters, they take research, and imagination, something that being trapped in your own house for six months does not facilitate.

To those who think this is not Harry Potter anymore, you are right the Arcanist is AU fanfiction. but I will be exploring a lot more of the Harry Potter side of the stories after the Alfheimr arc, so if you are patient I think you will like how the world transitions into the world we all know and love.

If you do not feel the updates are regular enough for you, I am sorry, I however am doing my best. I have a job, and a life and do my best to enjoy both of those things and also my writing. I hope you understand.

After I get to Alfheimr, expect a short break from the regular storyline so that I can go edit the issues out of chapters 1-4.

You can expect the next few chapters to be heavy on the character development side, this is really the "boss battle" of Svartalheimr, so it needed to be done. Still, expect the consequences of this to have far more reaching effects than you expect.

Lilomëa will be more fleshed out don't worry, you will get to see more of her and Rath'gar then ever before, you will also get plenty of time to get to enjoy Hadrian and Lilomea having to learn about each other.

I hope the fight between Joradin, Hadrian, and the much teased Ilsensine didn't disappoint. It was my first attempt to write that kind of divine fighting, don't expect a lot of it. I am not going to try to let the story sink more into that then I need to.

To those who are worried that Albus and Hadrian are outgrowing what the Wizarding World can deal with, you are right, but I have something planned that will hopefully stir things up a bit.

A fic recommendation for this month is "Son of the Western Sea"

My beta's are amazing and I love them, both. Thanks for all of your help guys!

Mr. Omega


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